Tomorrow Would Never Change
by Stars Walk Backward
Summary: Gabriella Montez is the school 'Spaz.' With a disability, however mild, she has never been 'normal.' Never been flirted with. Never been kissed. Never been loved...or so she thinks. Troy Bolton is your standard high school jock..or is he? Gabriella has to wonder, as kind as Troy may be, in a world where looks are everything, can 'Gabriella the disabled girl' ever be enough?
1. Conscious

_N/A: Alright guys. I know it's really bad to post a new story when you're so far behind on another, but this one is really close to my heart. __  
>What is revealed at the very end of this chapter (which you'll have to read to find out because I'm not telling you,) is true for me too. And it's really hard sometimes. You should know that everything Gabriella endures to do with THAT is from my personal experience, because I deal with some of the same things, not as bad though thankfully.. - well, other than Troy Bolton. I could only <em>**dream**_. So anyway, Hope you like it, and please review if you'd like me to continue or have any suggestions or comments.  
>Love y'all.<br>__India Rose (LilMissEfronJackson) x x x_

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><p><strong>Tomorrow Would Never Change<strong>

**Conscious**

There was only one thing Gabriella Montez hated more than being at school.

And that was people staring.

She kept her head down as she made her way though the doors of East High. Her soft, wavy curls left to rest at her shoulders. As she entered, Gabriella felt the familiar itch, the ache, of people's eyes on her, their stares haunting her thoughts with every step she took.

_Self-conscious, _Gabriella recited silently, trying to calm herself.

_Adjective. __Definition: Feeling undue awareness of oneself, one's appearance, or one's actions. having knowledge of one's own existence. the knowledge of oneself as a conscious being._

Self-consciousness. Something Gabriella knew hit every girl on her weaker days. But Gabriella Marie Montez, the math geek, knew nothing but exactly that. Everyday, she was reminded of how she was did not quite fit in.  
>Everyday of her life she tried to fit a rhombus into a square. Everyday, she failed, and it hit her like a slap in the face.<br>Only this year had been worse.

This year, she was a senior.

She carried on down the hall, her thoughts racing, paranoid, fragile, unknown, and invisible to the outside world. She kept her eyes on the floor that was too white in order to not have to look up at the lockers and peppy walls that were too red. She concentrated all her energy on walking as straight and level-balanced as possible towards her locker. If she really tried, she'd get there with minimal collateral damage. No falls, no tripping over bags, or her own feet. Just a walk to her locker. That's all she wanted.

More eyes looked questioningly her way as she passed them. Some more questioningly than others, Gabriella observed. They must be new. She didn't bother to look and see who's eyes it was that were following her body, because they'd all pretend they had never been looking if she did.

Nervously, Gabriella pulled at her blue blouse, feeling a pair of eyes belonging to a certain blonde, prima donna settle on her with a gaze she knew would be filled with the same hurtful amusement and disbelief.

_Not long now until you reach your locker, _she thought to herself hastily. Not that it mattered though. She'd still be stared at when she got there anyway.

As Gabriella heard laughter - she felt the familiar pang through her chest - one of panic, anxiety, and everlasting loneliness. It was laughter between friends, something she'd never really known. Groups were formed when people found a common ground.

Gabriella had never stepped on such ground.

The only friend she had was a brainiac, African-American named Taylor McKessie, and though they had been to each other's houses many times, Gabriella never really felt very connected to her out of school. Though Taylor had been lovely towards her, she still struggled with the mutual connection that she desperately wanted.

The laughter continued, and she realised it belonged to a group of males. She tried to will herself not to look up, but her body would not obey her mind. As soon as she did, she regretted it. Her gaze fell on the group of basketball players who were gathered near their lockers - and unfortunately, near hers too. She only allowed herself a tiny glance at the dark-haired male in the centre of the group. The one wished didn't stare like the rest of them. She didn't allow herself to stare long enough to meet his eyes of course and she quickly reached the temporary sanctuary of her locker. She felt a breeze as the group whooshed past her - she willed her eyes to stay staring into her locker, but they strayed as she watched the flash of blue carry on in the centre of the males, moving swiftly down the hall. She watched him blankly.

Hardly believing that the being that appeared to be so much like a man really was Troy Bolton.

She shook her head, willing with all her self-control to focus only on getting through the day so she could go to bed with a book. She gathered her books for the morning and made her way to homeroom, stepping through the door of Ms Darbus' classroom cautiously, checking the floor for any objects her unbalanced body could trip over. She sat at the back of the room a good ten minutes before the bell, wishing she could become completely invisible, and stay that way.

"Good Morning, class. I trust you all had a good summer and are back refreshed and ready to learn." The class - all but Gabriella - groaned as Ms Darbus continued, oblivious. "Now - onto the wonderful realms of.. Shakespeare!"

Another groan erupted and Gabriella took a deep breath, focusing on the black board at the front. She had Ms Darbus for homeroom, and English, but she really didn't mind. She could sit in lessons forever because she always sat at the back, no one had their eyes on her, and if they did, they'd get caught by the teacher. She let her mind become absorbed by the lesson, by the soft poetic language, and unfortunately for Gabriella, time travelled fast.

Soon enough, there was only fifteen minutes left of the lesson, and Gabriella's mind began to go through the homework assignment she would have to do and the books she'd have to take home. Her thoughts were consumed, when she suddenly realised Ms Darbus was looking at her.

"Ms Montez." Gabriella blinked twice, and swallowed hard.

"Yes, Ms Darbus?"

"Since you are a star student, please may you read some Shakespeare for us?" she asked, and Gabriella swore she could see a kind look in her eye as she smiled, but it disappeared just as quickly as it appeared, and her dramatic demeanour returned.

"Please, Ms Darbus, I–"

"Others will have a turn too, Miss Montez. Shakespeare was written to be lived, not just observed," she said fruitfully as her voice rose with passion at the end of her sentence, and she waved her arms in gesture. "Come here to the front and read for us."

Gabriella fought the panic the bubbled inside her. Taylor was not in this class with her, meaning she had no friendly face of any kind. She tightened her grip on her sleeve as she heard chuckling from male in front of her, Jason Cross, who was engaged in a hushed conversation with the male next to him and not paying any attention to Ms Darbus at all.

"Mr Cross," she said sternly, making him jump round as he realised she was in front of him. "You're up next," she said to him in warning. Her gaze told the class that she mistook his amusement and did not realise his chuckle had in fact not been directed towards Gabriella, but towards the male beside him. Jason's eyes squinted as he looked at her.

"Up next for what?" The whole class groaned and chuckled at his inability to pay attention.

After a moment, the time taken for Ms Darbus to sigh hopelessly as Jason, eyes were on Gabriella again. Realising she could put it off any longer, she braced herself to stand. Only, standing after being seated in a hard and uncomfortable plastic chair for almost a whole morning, meant that standing was not quite as easy as it should be. Gabriella gripped the desk best she could as she struggled to find the strength to push herself up with no leg room. She silently cursed herself not tucking in her chair to such an extent earlier on, as the lack of leg room meant she was finding hard to have any room to stand and push her chair backward, she was losing her balance and making the chair scrape along the floor, making a hideous sound. Her legs were tight from the lack of movement over the last hour, adding to her struggle, but she finally made enough room to be able to step out from behind her desk. Staring at the ground in front of her feet, she made her way to the front of the room, feeling pair after pair of eyes on her body as she moves past each row. Nearly all were innocent glances, but to Gabriella they bore into her like blistering fire - her mind adamant that they all knew about her complete crumbling interior and wanted to make it worse. Time seemed to travel in slow motion, as she kept her eyes on the ground, automatically scanning it for any items that could cause her harm. Her mind screamed at her that everyone was watching and that she should walk as straight as possible, but her tight legs were achey and her choice of ballet flats on her feet this morning had been a bad one, she realised, as she felt the hollow of her back deepen, and her body slump forward as she walked. She felt her posture slip hopelessly, thanks to her tiredness, and she looked up as she neared Mr Darbus, realising too late her mistake. Before her slow and unbalanced body could react, her foot slipped into the strap of a schoolbag on the floor. Unknowing, Gabriella took another step forward, only to fall forwards when her foot caught and tangled with the bag strap. In less than half a second, her body had connected with the floor, knees first, and she cringed, realising, not only the pain in her knee, but also what had just happened.

She didn't raise her eyes, but just slowly raised herself back to her feet after a second, ignoring her knee that ached and throbbed desperately. She briefly heard Ms Darbus enquire if she was alright, and she nodded mutely, about to return to her seat but agreed silently when the woman asked if she would like to go to the nurse. Gabriella didn't need the nurse, both herself and Ms Darbus knew perfectly well she didn't, however they both knew that the last place she needed to be was in that classroom.

This had been happening her whole life, her whole school life too, but that didn't make it any less excruciatingly embarrassing, or damaging to her vital self-esteem, or whatever was left of it.

Gabriella heard every single sneer and whisper that came from the class as she left, and saw the one sympathetic glance from Ms Darbus, all hope of walking straight leaving her as her shoulders sagged and posture twisted, her left leg and her right turning inwards - even more than usual - as she walked.

However. there were always things that Gabriella Montez didn't see.

Like the soft, none-threatening, gaze of a certain blue-eyed basketball MVP, Troy Bolton, that followed her as she left blindly.

However, Mr Darbus saw it all. She watched on as the Troy Bolton's brow furrowed with what appeared to be discomfort as those around him jeered, and confusion as he subtly wondered what was wrong with the girl leaving the room. But Gabriella left the room lifelessly, and she was sure she heard the 'S' word being hurled in whispers at her.  
>Gabriella did not see the one soft gaze - because she didn't look for it. She walked through the halls, wanting to give into the tears desperately, but pushing them away. She knew they would do her no good.<p>

Because Gabriella Montez was physically disabled.

She was the school spaz, and that was never going to change.


	2. Existing

N/A:_ Hey Guys! _

_First off - want to say mega thank you to **Angkeats** for all her chat and support and general acceptance of me while I've been jittering on about how much I adore her stories. And also a big thank you for the shout out she put in her latest story (which is AMAZING!) Girl, didn't expect you to do that, but you did. So, Grazie(L)_

_Second, I want to stress two things - the feelings Gabriella has __are based on mine in my life but the events__ aren't__ necessarily__. I have the same diabilities and problems that Gabriella faces in this story. _

_Because I am also "disabled" (URGH. Hate saying and writing that word tbh,) this story close to my heart and that's why, partially, I'm writing it. I want you guys to see a story that's a real as a story can be; that's based on something the TV and showbiz doesn't really like to acknowledge because it's not pretty. _

_ I have deliberately left information out, so don't worry if you don't quite get things, such as what Gabriella's walking is meant to look like, or why it's such a big deal. You'll find everything out gradually - as Troy does. :) _

_Thirdly, and this is a big one, I'm sorry this is so short. It's in two parts for a reason. I realised it works better that way on here. However, in my master copy, it's one whole chapter. So, it depends on how many hits and reviews I get on this half before I post the other! It's a bit of a filler, but that's 'cuz I'm getting ready to get down to the gritty stuff!;)  
>Be sure to review if you want the next half!<br>Love you guys!  
>LilMissEfronJackson, aka India Rose x x x x <em>

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><p><strong><span>Existing (Part 1)<span>**

Spring break came quickly, to Gabriella's dismay. Her mother had told her she needed to get out and make some friends by getting a job for easter break. She said it was 'for her own good.' She grimaced yet again as her mother drove her to her forced destination. Lava Springs Country Club, Albuquerque, New Mexico. Her mother, though she failed to let Gabriella know exactly how, had managed to get her a job at what is apparently New Mexico's most prestigious country club. Gabriella had still not learnt much about the town, county, or state, even though she had moved there over a year ago. This was mostly due to the fact she didn't want to know, because knowing meant learning, and learning meant attachment. Attachment for a traveling family such as hers was positively fatal.

She felt the cool glass of the car window against her forehead as she wrung her hands in her laps. Cold, clammy sweat gathered in her palms.

"I really don't feel so good about this, Mom."

"Oh Gabriella. Honestly. It's not healthy to live the way you do. What's so wrong with _attempting_ to make a few friends?" Is it really that hard?"

"Not if you're normal," Gabriella mumbled under her breath, turning her eyes back to the complacent scenery out the window.

Her mother must have heard. "Oh Gabriella–"

"Never mind, Mom..." she interrupted warily. "Just don't say I didn't warn you."

Soon enough they arrived outside the grand entrance and Gabriella was sure she was having a heart attack. Her hands shook with nerves as her mother dismissed her with a kiss and handed her over to the rather stiff manager, Mr Fulton. Gabriella kept her eyes down as he lead her to the employees locker room. He rattled on about rules and regulations and Gabriella's calculative brain absorbed all instructions with much ease:

No use of country club or spa facilities; no inappropriate behaviour on the premises; no PDA; no smoking; and no harassing, disagreeing or upsetting paying customers.

Gabriella resisted the urge to roll her eyes in a rare moment of pure angst. Did this man think she really _looked _like the type of person who'd do such things?

"_I said, _am I understood, Miss Montez?" he sharp tone pierced through her thoughts as quickly as the cold glare from his ice blue eyes.

"Yes sir," Gabriella said, looking down at the floor and following him again. He showed her to her locker and then proceeded to the kitchen. Just as he appeared to be almost done, he turned back and Gabriella paled before he'd even spoken, knowing the look in his eye a mile off.

"Oh, by the way Miss Montez, your mother informed me of your... unfortunate disposition." Gabriella winced at his use of insensitive language and unsympathetic tone. "And I would appreciate it if you informed me when you take your resting breaks so that we definitely have enough staff on hand." He looked her in the eye and pulled a tight smile that had no warmth behind it. "But please, Miss Montez, try not to take _too _many _resting _breaks, as I have a business to keep running, customers to please, bills to pay and no time to be wasted on charity cases._ Kapeesh?"_

Gabriella fought the horror and embarrassment that bubbled inside her as they threatened to show on her features.

Damn her mother. She always had to go and mention it to everyone. She was always over concerned. _Damn her._

She forced a neutral but still wary expression as he turned towards a hook on the wall. He threw her white material that she soon realise was a waist apron. She looked at him questioningly.

"_Waitressing, _Miss Montez. Hopefully that won't prove too taxing as there is involves 'no intensive sport or excessive physical effort.' But please, I beg of you, try _not _to fall and injure the guests," he said sharply, with false concern, before leaving the room. Gabriella rolled her eyes fully this time. As if _her _falling over her own feet with hot food would injure _them. _

She took in the surroundings of the expensive large restaurant kitchen. There were already a few busy people cooking in the background, and she looked up at the clock warily.

8:55AM.

Her shift started at 9AM and ended at 5PM.

Her hands shook involuntarily at the thought of having to balance food and try not to trip over, and she softly thanked the lord that she was not wearing completely flat shoes.

She needed all the centre of balance and gravity she could get today.

She turned to clock-in with her card when she heard animated chatter and laughter getting louder and coming from the direction of the door. She turned and came face to face with a group of three pre-occupied males, with their backs to her within half a second. She ignored them and clocked in quickly, however they noticed her once the beep of the registering machine sounded.

"Oh, a new girl," one said overconfidently. "Nice to meet you, Miss. I'm Paul." He said as he reached passed her and clocked himself in and pulling on his waiters apron. Another of the late teenage males, checking in as well and pulling on a chefs apron, carried on chatting to Paul after throwing a complacent hello without introduction in Gabriella's general direction. She stayed glued to her spot staring at the clock on the opposite wall, not noticing that the third male from the group was still to clock in. In fact, she did not notice him stood still at all. She wrung her hands even tighter, realising thankfully that neither of the males that had just spoken to her had seen her walking yet. She then realised in vain that as soon as the shift started that's exactly what they would be able to see. _All day long._

_At least I got one uninfluenced word out of them before they see the ugly truth that is me, _she thought.

Suddenly Gabriella jumped at the sound of something hitting the floor not a yard from her feet, and she watched as the third male from the earlier trio bent down and picked up his keycard. She went to turn away, but froze in her tracks at the sight of his sun-glowing tan, his dark brown bangs and his... _B__right. Blue. Eyes. _

Suddenly she had forgotten how to swallow as fear gripped her. She didn't know how to react as he brain suddenly clicked into gear.  
>He knew who she was.<br>He _knew._

He went to East High. He heard the gossip, the banter. Everything.

She was stood face-to-face with Troy Bolton, the centre of everything, and could do nothing about it. She didn't want to be here anymore than she had a minute ago, but now it was for a completely different reason. Now the line where her comfort zone ended was so far gone that it was a dot on a seemingly endless horizon. She wanted to run, and she would have if running hadn't meant giving everyone a clear view of her _physical disposition; _A front row view of the insecurity that stained her very existence.  
>No. She didn't want that. She didn't want the attention that fleeing would give her.<p>

So her own personal million-dollar question haunted her still:

_If she couldn't run away, what _could_ she do? _


	3. Existing Part 2

N/A: _Hello lovelies!_

_**Lovexfaith** - I'm SO glad you said that. That's exactly what I was aiming for. I aimed for this to be as if she never met Troy and so never got that boost of confidence she needed. Except it's supposed to be even worse because she's disabled. :)_

**_LittleMissEmzz - Girl, I love you. You are the reason I'm actually on track with this story! Your enthusiasm and character named after me in your story keep me going, and our revision sessions where we talk about nothing but writing are the bomb ;) I love ya._**

_I'm glad you all found it interesting. Keep the comments comin'! Anything could happen at the moment!_

_And don't worry when you first start reading this chapter. Troy IS appearing. You all should know I can't resist him. ;)_

__So here's chapter 3, part two of 'Existing'! Let me know what you guys think if you want the next chapter!__

_**Make my day and press that review button!**_

_–LilMissEfronJackson, aka, India Rose x x x x_

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><p><strong>Existing (Part 2)<strong>

Gabriella was sure that just as quickly as Troy Bolton had appeared, he'd be gone.

She frowned at the emotion that ran through her as Troy gave her brief eye contact before turning away from her to clock in. Shock ran through her as she realised their had been no discomfort or awkwardness in his gaze.

_How odd,_ she thought. She had been sure he would not be happy to see the school spaz at his workplace

However, he turned as he slid his keycard back in it's place and connected eyes with her purposely, and her mind froze as she realised she had no idea what to do.

He opened his mouth to say something, his eyes still directly on her, staying exactly as Gabriella hadn't expected: focused and respectful. He didn't speak for a second however, and Gabriella watched as her heart slammed unfamiliarly in her chest.

What was happening?

She returned his equally uncertain but sincere gaze as the corner of his mouth tugged upward in a small, self-contain smile. It was as if he'd just seen something different, something he'd never seen before.

"Gabriella."

Her heart slammed even more as he spoke her name, a word that she'd never realised could sound so complete. Gabriella heard the one word repeating and imprinting itself in her brain, and to her it almost sounded like a confirmation, as if he'd just found the answer to something he'd been puzzled about all day. It was a low murmur, but one that was said confident enough for Gabriella to realise that she was indeed meant to hear it.

"Miss Montez," Mr Fulton's voice sounded from the doorway. "Though you clocked in early, that does not mean you can start your shift late. _Chop Chop_!" He turned his attention to Troy who had snapped his gaze up to look at the older man. "You too, Bolton." He turned to leave as both teenagers stood, not sure where to move next after their earlier interaction. No one was more surprised than Gabriella when she found herself laughing along with Troy Bolton at the sound of Mr Fulton shouting _"Chop, chop!"_from down the corridor.

–x–X–x–

_One Week Later_

_Waitress, _Gabriella mentally recited.

_Noun. __A woman whose job is to serve customers at their tables in a restaurant._

Gabriella inwardly scoffed at the definition she repeated in her head. _Serving _them? More like _slaving _for them. She could feel her feet and calves aching, desperate for a chance to relax. She glanced at her watch, sighing with relief that her lunch break was just about to start. She hurried to the kitchen and smiled at the content chatter that filled the room. Not bothering to pull her apron from herself, she walked towards the back exit that lead out to a grassy lawn area for the staff. She was somewhat pleased to find no one there, as those on lunch break were chatting while they ate in the kitchen. She sat at a bench and pulled out her lunch from her bag. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, which _would _have been a treat, only, Gabriella's mother had made them, which ensured her that they, without a doubt, would be the _opposite _of a treat. She unwrapped them gingerly and picked up one of the soggy sandwiches unwillingly.

"Mom made your lunch?" Gabriella jumped at the sound of a voice from behind her. She turned to find a tall, slim girl that looked around her own age. The girl smiled, and Gabriella felt dazzled. She had never really met or seen a girl in her life that she regarded as 'stunning beyond belief.' She found that models in magazine's were all too skinny and hard to believe for a '_physically unfortunate' _girl like her.

But this girl, she really _was _beautiful.

Her blue eyes stood out from beneath her dark brown bangs and choppy layers. Her skin was a glowing warm tan colour, like most people around here. She remembered her mother's comment. '_Everyone glows here, Gabriella. It's the vitamin D.'_

The girl carried on smiling at her, and without invitation, took a seat beside Gabriella. Gabriella stared down at her soggy sandwich pile and soon realised she'd been asked a question.

"Er," she laughed, "Yeah. My mom is not the best cook. Or PP&J maker," she said with another small laugh.

She watched as the beautiful girl pulled out a paper bag and retrieved a set of sandwiches out of it. "Mine either. In the end I told her to stop trying," the girl said, her smile lighting up her eyes. Her smile was incredibly infectious, Gabriella realised, as she found herself smiling back at the dark, glittering blue eyes unknowingly.

She girl held out her hand. "Emily. Emily Anderson. Scottish. Well, originally anyway." Still smiling happily, she introduced herself. "But all the guys call me Andy."

Gabriella smiled back and shook Emily's hand. "Gabriella. Gabriella Montez. Hispanic, Irish, Filipino..." she listed.

Emily laughed. "And the rest," she exclaimed. "I mean, look at you. You're beautifully... exotic," she said, grinning cheekily as she bit into her sandwich and passed Gabriella one from her pile.

"Exotic? Me? No!" she blushed and giggled at the description of herself, finding herself randomly picturing a Victoria Secret type model with a dark tan and green eyes at the mention of the adjective. She smiled and turned to Emily and opened her mouth recite a definition - something she had never done out loud before. "_Exotic._ _Adjective. Attractive or striking as a result of being colorful or out of the ordinary in a beautiful or unusual way,_" she recited cleanly. She smiled as she felt her point proved. "I am neither of those things."

Emily smiled and she laughed. "Oh, so you're one with words, are you? Well, as impressive as that was, Montez, I believe you're wrong on that one. You are those things._Trust_ me."

And strangely, Gabriella already did.

She took another bite of the sandwich Emily had given her and chewed lovingly. "These are delicious! Are you a chef here?"she asked, needing a change of subject

Emily giggled. "I am. A pastry chef, though I make lunch for the guys, or any staff who want any. Maybe I could make your lunch another time?"

Gabriella smiled. "That'd be great. I love these," she said, motioning to the sandwich she was eating.

"It's a deal then. I'll make you sandwiches from now on. _Non _soggy ones." She smiled knowingly at Gabriella before changing the subject "So, how long have you been here?" Emily asked after finishing her mouthful.

"A week," Gabriella said softly, looking down at the table, feeling her aura dip for the first time since Emily had appeared. Troy had not been at the club after that first day, and Gabriella, straight after realising this, had gone straight back into autopilot - convincing herself that nobody, especially Troy Bolton, actually cared.

"That bad, eh?" Emily said, with a slight humorous edge to her voice that made Gabriella smile.

"That bad," Gabriella confirmed. Though she'd had a few bumps, scrapes, trips over little steps in doorways and aching back and legs, she had yet to drop food on someone, or on herself.

"Aw... It'll get better. Trust me."

She spoke again using that unfamiliar term that Gabriella didn't know how to react to. She already _did _trust Emily, she could feel it, but she had no idea why.

None at all.

"Andy? Andy!"

Gabriella and Emily turned their heads at the voice, and Gabriella felt her heart hit her ribs violently at who she saw.

"Andy, I–" He stopped.

Her eyes met the vibrant blues that could only belong to Troy Bolton. Before she could blink, his smile widened to one brighter than usual. She returned his smile, something she had not done the first time she'd seen him, and his eyes seemed to brighten at the sight. At that moment, Gabriella realised she felt more alive than she ever had, and Troy only made that even better.

"Gabriella," he said, his voice filled with a deep emotion that Gabriella was sure sounded like relief. Her heartbeat slammed. "Maybe _you _can help me."


	4. Awakening

N/A: _Hey guys. So, I have no idea what you may have been wanting or expecting out of this chapter (since not many of you reviewed) so I took a guess and went with my instinct with this one. I'm going on holiday in 2 days for two weeks so won't be able to post anything until after that. It's finally summer! YAY! If you guys are extra nice and leave a review if you liked this, then that may give me the incentive to write you a chapter while I'm away and then I'll post it when I get back? And I may include aspects you want me to into the next chapter if you're extra EXTRA nice ;) _

_LOL. Anyway, I'm signing off for now, but hope you like this one and it's Troyella action! (Oops, gave some stuff away!:L) _

_Keep me posted and review please! Thank you! _

_–LilMissEfronJackson, aka, India Rose x x x x x x_

**_Disclaimer: _**_I own nothing. No disney characters, locations. NADA. _

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><p><em>FYI, I'm going to start writing down what day of the easter holiday -or vacation if your Amercian ;) - it is before each chapter, that way you'll be able to understand the changing time scale better. It moves around a bit, in case you hadn't noticed. <em>

**_Easter (Spring) Break Job - Day 7_**

**Awakening**

Gabriella followed Troy and Emily down the corridor towards the restaurant area. She watched intently as the two laughed at something unapparent, and felt the unfamiliar pang of jealousy as she watched how Troy became a different person in Emily's presence. Before she could even consider the reason why, she felt herself envying how close the two obviously were.

She knew she was obviously going to have to speak up, as she was being lead to help Troy but she didn't know what with. Her nerves were churning.

What if he asked to do something that her disability meant she couldn't do?

What if she embarrassed herself in front of him?

The possibilities of failure were endless, and Gabriella, as a practiced pessimist, was nervous and mentally preparing for them all.

Just as her thoughts pulled her further away from reality, Troy turned and called to her. Instantly her stomach knotted with anxiety so tightly that she was sure she was having an attack. She quickly gripped her apron in her hands to try and wipe away the cold sweat that gathered in her palms. She must have, god forbid, let her emotions cast across her features, because Troy went from dismissing Emily who had temporarily walked away, to looking at Gabriella intently as they stood out of view at the back entrance to the restaurant. The was a small 'V' that formed on his brow as he frowned. "Gabriella. You okay?" He could see something was causing her distress, as he knew the signs very well through sport such as basketball. His frown only deepened as she turned away from him and took a deep breath.

"What was it you wanted?" she asked, her voice betraying the fact she wasn't really concentrating on the question or the answer he gave. He sighed.

"Do you speak Spanish, Gabriella?" He licked his lower lip cautiously as she turned to face him. Her face displayed confusion.

"Yes. I do." He sighed with relief.

"Great. There's something I really need your help with."

She turned to him, her voice slightly more confident this time. "And what is that?"

"There's a Spanish family over at table two who don't seem to speech much English. Could you help translate? Please?"

Gabriella felt slightly relieved that the favour he was asking was in fact nothing physical. Anything to do with her mind, she _could _do, and could do _well. _"Sure," she said. "I'll go now. Table two did you say?"

Troy smiled. "Table two," he confirmed.

Gabriella turned and walked toward table two, feeling Troy follow close behind. She felt heat rise to her cheeks knowing that he was so close behind her, and that all he would be able to see from where he was was her fat ass sticking out because of the way she walked...

Oh _god, _he could see her legs completely from where he was. She felt anxiety creep up again.

_Oh lord, _she thought to herself, _please _please _say he's not freaked out by my walking like everyone else_.

She didn't have any more time to worry about that though as she approved the table of beautiful looking Hispanics. They smiled as she approached, recognising the Latina blood in her straight away. She walked right up to them, forgetting her anxieties for a moment and focusing on the one thing she could always trust: her knowledge.

"Ah, Hola! Gusto en conocerte. Me llamo Gabriella y me va a ser servir tu día de hoy. ¿Puedo conseguir cualquier cosa por ti? Cualquier bebidas?" She smiled, asking him if he wanted to order any drinks.

He man smiled at her and she smiled back. He had happy eyes, much like he father had had.

"Voy a tomar una cerveza. Mi esposa tendrá un café con leche y vamos a tener dos Coca-Colas también," he said, and she quickly noted down his drinks order of a beer, two Cokes and a latte.

"Habeis decidido sobre las comidas todavía?" she asked politely if he had decided on main courses, and the man nodded, quickly ordering four meals for his family.

Gabriella noted them down hastily and then flashed her best smile at the kind man. "Bueno, está bien si eso es todo, entonces yo te dejo en paz. Déjame saber si hay algo que pueda hacer por usted." She let him know if they needed anything, all they had to do was ask.

The man thanked her for speaking to him in Spanish and for being so helpful, as did his wife, and Gabriella accepted their praise before turning away towards the kitchen. She did this just in time to catch a wink from Emily across the room.

She inwardly grinned at the accomplishment she felt within her, and would have almost believed she could be happy this way ––that is until she stepped outside and hit her major nemesis straight on.

"Oh, why hello.. _Gabriella_."

Gabriella turned to find a verysparkly, and very _blonde_ Sharpay Evans in front of her. Gabriella easily caught how Sharpay deliberately paused before saying her name, as though to initiate even more the fact that Gabriella Montez had momentarily forgotten: she didn't belong here.

The blonde may appear air-headed and, well, _blonde, _but Gabriella was not as naïve as Sharpay would have her think. She knew that the rich heiress in front of her was nothing short of cunning, by the mere gleam of determination and stealth in her deep cocoa eyes.

Gabriella had known that the Evans' owned this country club, and many alike, but she had _not, _however, realised Sharpay would be at all in residence.

She cursed herself.

Sharpay most likely had eyes and ears _everywhere_ around here, so _of course _she'd know if _Gabriella The Spaz _enrolled as an employee.

Gabriella smiled despite herself, but chose to stay silent. It was always the best bet with Sharpay Evans.

"I heard that you had signed up for a vacation job here, and well, to be quite honest, I didn't really believe it. I had to see it for myself. I mean, can you _blame _me?We're talking about _you _walking around in front of _paying customers? _I _still _can't believe Fulton _chose _to hire you. I mean, what was he on?" she laughed, though Gabriella could see no reason to. She looked at Gabriella innocently. "I really don't see what you have against me, Gabriella, because there's obviously something._ First _you spaz up _my _school hallways and English classes, and _now _you're spazzing up _my _country club, _and _drawing guests away while you're at it?"

Gabriella tried her best not to grimace at Sharpay's cutting tone and blunt language. Normally, Gabriella was good at making it appear as though comments such as these bounce right off, but lately she'd noticed that it hadn't been so easy. She decided right then and there to blame the one thing she could never be in control of: hormones.

"Are you listening to me?" Sharpay barked, though her tone had gone from demanding and arrogant to low and somewhat frightening, and Gabriella found it hard to look her in the face. "My family's _pristine _country club and it's customers do _not _want to be repulsed by your presence, Gabriella. Waitresses are supposed to be like me, and do you know what I mean by that?" Gabriella stayed silent. "By that I mean, _pretty and perfect._" She swished her hair over her shoulder. "But since I'm just _too,_ well, _fabulous _to be _working help,_ that is what people like Emily_–whatever–her–name–is _and, _of course_, Troy Bolton, are for."

Gabriella looked at her and murmured, "Can you just get to the point, Sharpay? I have work to do."

Sharpay wasn't looking at her, but was looking down at her perfectly manicured nail beds, evidently getting bored of the little game she had created. She looked up and jabbed her pointer finger into Gabriella chest, startling her. "My point is, _Montez,_ since I can't fire you as we speak without consulting greater sources, I want you to keep your pathetic, disabled ass away from me and my people._ Understand?_"

Gabriella looked at her, dumbfounded, but nodded her head quickly, hopefully she'd leave. She sighed with relief when that was exactly what she did ––dramatically though of course. She stood there at the back entrance a few seconds longer, trying to sort the mumbled and confused thoughts and anxieties running riot in her brain. She suddenly had not orientation at all as she turned and saw none other than Troy Bolton heading out the door, and towards her.

How long had he been stood there?

"Gabriella. What did she say to you?" Gabriella shook her head as she realised her body was trembling fiercely.

"What?" she managed to utter, her voice but a whisper. The 'V' appeared in between Troy's eyebrows again, only it was a frown even more embedded than she'd ever seen before.

"Gabriella. You're shaking," he soothed, resting a hand on her forearm to steady her body as he felt it convulse with emotion under his palm. "What did she say? Did she upset you?" His question alarmed her, as she had no idea how to answer. She looked at him and bit her bottom lip, desperate not to let the suddenly ever-threatening lump in her throat to transform to salty tears.

Gabriella took a shaking breath, sniffing, and used her free hand to whip her eyes before any tears would fall. "Troy, I––" she stopped and tried to turn away, but his hand gripped her arm even more. She looked up and saw his soothing blue-eyed gaze that had no intent visible within other than comfort and concern. She couldn't help herself any longer, as she felt salty tears brim in her eyes, and remembered the words that Sharpay had forced upon her only minutes before.

Sharpay had been right, she _didn't _belong here, but at this moment, Gabriella couldn't find the will to care.

"Troy, I––I don't know what to say... I let her s-say those things because.. I didn't–– She's right, I–– I..." By this point there was no reversing the tears as they began to set a trail down her cheeks and sobbed began to rack her body that was already shaking. She hadn't cried properly in, she couldn't remember how long.

Troy pulled her into a hug and she was immediately calmed by the feeling and warmth of his uniformed body against hers. She sobbed as he gripped her, and he ran a hand up and down her back as she convulsed with the sobs that left her gut mercilessly.

"Shhh," he husked. "Shhh, Gabriella, it's alright.. It's okay, I promise you." She nodded against him, as she _did _truly believe him, but she couldn't stop the series of sobs hit her hard and she shook and her face rubbed against his blue dress shirt. He gripped her again. "Hey, hey," he coaxed. "Shh... Gabriella. Gabriella, look at me."

She looked up at his soft features and noticed his truly magnificent square jaw, perfect cheekbones, and those famous bright blue eyes that glittered when he smiled. He looked down at her and wiped her tears with the pad of his thumb.

"You'll be okay... I won't let her hurt you..."

She blushed fiercely at the sight of Troy Bolton being a stunningly perfect gentleman, and she smiled back at him. He nodded in confirmation as her tears stopped falling, and she blushed again. Troy let her go, but kept a hand on her arm.

Quickly he sensed the need for a change of subject, but knew that soon they would have to return to the subject of why Gabriella just broke down. For now, however, he chose to ignore that. "Gabriella, I, uh, meant to say, that Spanish you did.. that was really impressive. Pretty awesome stuff,"

She rolled her eyes.

"What? Are you _surprised_ that I _do_ in fact have a skill other than algebra, Troy Bolton?" she laughed.

She balked at her own statement then.

Since _when_ did she make such outgoing comments? And since when did she make them in front of _Troy Bolton? _

She watched as the corner of his lips tugged in an amused, harmless smirked. He smiled just enough to reveal a row of straight white teeth as he looked down at the floor. Gabriella watched him still, mesmorised in those few mili-seconds by the way his dark lashes fanned across his eyes as he looked down during his smirk. His dark eyebrows rose and disappeared under his bangs at her comment. He then looked back up at her with those bright blue eyes, and she realised that in the last few minutes she'd let her guard down again.

To Troy Bolton, she was the 'quiet and collected' girl from school no longer.

She watched him as he moved to enter the restaurant again. He suddenly turned toward her and answered her, and after all that had just happened he yet again left her wondering who on earthTroy Bolton really was.

She smiled as his concluding reply hung around her in the air, along with a complete and wholesome Bolton smile.

"You _never_ seise to surprise me, Gabriella Montez."

* * *

><p><em>Incase you didn't understand a word of my Spanish - here is the rough translation :)<em>

Spanish translation 

**(Hello. Nice to meet you. My name is Gabriella and I will be serving you today. Can I get you anything? Any drinks?)**

**(I'll have a beer, and my wife will have a latte, and we'll have two Coca-Colas as well.)**

**(Have you decided on food yet?)**

** (Well, okay if that's all, then I'll leave you alone. Let me know if there is anything I can do for you.)**

REVIEW PLEASE IF YOU LIKED THIS CHAPTER! 3


	5. Promise of Salvation

N/A: _Hey y'all! -Rather long authors note coming up because I've replied to reviews!-_

_So, What's up? I've been on the lovely and sunny English East coast for the last two weeks, and, lucky for you, got a LOT of writing done. This is a proper chapter. It's not stupidly short like all my other ones, it's proper chapter size–for once! _

_Alright, before we get this chapter started, I wanted to answer some reviews and questions from last chapter and maybe some from before that I forgot to. _

_–Btw, THANK YOU for to those of you who reviewed the last chapter! You know who you are, and I really REALLY do appreciate your comments- the longer the better though;) !_

_Also, though it's a shame you don't make your voices heard, THANK YOU to all of you who DO read my story every time I post! I know you're out there! I looked, and I've had **679 Hits **this month! I cannot believe it! So, THANK YOU for reading, and I hope you enjoy, but then again, how do I know if you do or not if you don't review? _

_Please you lovelies, press the Review button. I don't bite!_

* * *

><p><em>So anyway: Replies to reviews:<em>

_Review from Chapter 3 'Existing Part 2'  
><em>_From: **xZanessaFreakx:**_

_Girl, you've got me hooked! Can't wait to read more! Its great that your using __yourself as inspiration for Gabriella, the best writing always comes from your __own inner feelings!_

**_–Awh wow! That's AMAZING to hear! You have no idea! TOO RIGHT! That's the whole reason why I've got such motivation with this story, because it almost feels real with all the real emotions involved.  
>Please review again and let me know what you think of this and what you'd like to see happen next! xxxx<em>**

_–x–X–x–_

_–Pumpkinking5,** can I just say that you are awesome! You ALWAYS review and you seem to just...get what I'm trying to say through my writing. People like you keep me going! One tip for your next review though, please can you also let me know what you'd like to happen and why, as well as your usual analysis? ****Thank you! xxx**_

_–x–X–x–_

_Review for Chapter 4 'Awakening': _  
><em>From: <strong>peacelovebethx<strong>_

_The story is really good so far. I have a disability myself, so it's actually kind of hard to read if you understand what I mean. I think the best part is that you show how much Gabriella struggles emotionally._

**_Oh girl. I don't know if you caught my subtle admission in the authors note of one of my earlier chapters,  
><em>****_but I have a disability too.  
>I understand what you mean completely. This story is a reminder, and reminders can be painful. For example, I hate going for physio and meeting new people, because when I do these things it reminds me that I'm NOT the same as everyone else...<br>_****_This feeling I have is exactly the kind of thing I've been trying to relay and channel into the story through Gabriella. You'll be able to see more of that later._**

**_I have to say I'm really happy and excited at the idea of getting know a reader like you who completely understands what I go through and so, in turn, what GABRIELLA goes through too. You could really be of help and inspiration to me! Message me anytime, hun! Don't forget to let me know what you think of this one! _**

**_And THANK YOU! xxx_**

__–____x–X–x–__

_hsmhsm__,_**_ yes you will find out what Gabriella has.. The reader finds out more as Troy does. :) xxx_**

__–x–X–x–__

__edwardloove____,__**__ Thank you! Keep reading and you'll soon see!__**

___That's all for now! If you want to ask me a question in a review or let me know your thoughts then I will happily reply at the beginning of the next chapter! ~Bare in mind, however, that if you only leave a two word review the, as much as I love you for that, I can't really give you a reply!___

___Oh and ONE LAST THING and then I'll go I promise! ___

___I forgot to write this in the author's note of my last chapter that I posted beginning of July (I was being rushed) so I'll say it now. ___

___What I meant to say was a quick but meaning I LOVE YOU to the one and only Michael Jackson, who passed away on the 25th of June, 2009. It was the anniversary of his death not too long before I posted chapter 4 and, as I say, I did mean to write something in the authors not of that chapter, but was rushed, so I'll just have to write it now instead. ___

**___Michael, You were, are, and always will be, my hero.  
>Thank you for everything.<br>..Forever in our hearts..  
>I love you more. Forever.<em>__**

**__****___RIP MJ. ___**

___Anyway, I'll get on with the story now! Love you guys! Press that review button and make my day! ___

___–LilMissEfronJackson, aka, India Rose x x x x x x___

___**_Disclaimer: _**_I still own nothing. NADA.____

* * *

><p><strong><em>Easter (Spring) Break Job - Day 13<em>**

**Promise of Salvation**

After her emotional encounter with Troy Bolton not too long ago, Gabriella was always nervous to see him. She had been avoiding the blue-eyed wonder for exactly 6 days.

It had been 6 days since the emotional breakdown in front of Troy.

She knew almost all staff had to take the night shift that night as there was a Thursday night dinner and party for some prestigious guests, at the Lava Springs country club. Gabriella had never waitressed before this spring break, much less waitressed for a full-on high profile party. She had been briefed by a very anxious Mr. Fulton the day before on what to wear - all black with black waist apron and silver grey waist-belt - but even so, felt very unprepared. She dreaded the time that was bound to come when she would lose any balance she had managed to maintain and fall on a customer, or, in tonight's case, a high profile party guest.

Her mother dropped her off at the back entrance, as she had done for the 13 days that Gabriella had been working there, and she walked swiftly in through the back door, her small black heels making soft, purposeful noises on the expensive flooring. With every step, no matter how hard she tried, all she heard with each tap was how terribly alike the sound was in her preoccupied mind to the name that had been on her mind since yesterday.

_Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. _

_ Troy, Troy. Troy, Troy. _

She shook her head furiously and willed all thoughts of the East High Wildcats Basketball NBA to leave her - which, of course, was a lot easier said than done.

_Ridiculous,_ she recited. _Adjective. _She laughed to herself._ Definition: exactly what I'm being right now._

She threw her black coat onto the coat hooks and quickly tied her black waist apron in place. Walking through into the sleek restaurant kitchen, Gabriella smoothed skirt and smiled at the sight of busy commotion, where everything and everyone had a place. She turned and clocked in as Mr Fulton entered the kitchen.

"Miss Montez. Early - as always."

Gabriella smiled politely at him as he busied himself yelling at a couple of extra one-night chefs and kitchen boys who were hired to help.

"Far side of the table is where the main guests are sitting," he said as he turned to her again and moved quickly through the room as Gabriella followed. "Be extra nice to them. I want you and Bolton on to service their every move, because—" he stopped to maneuver around a passing waiter. "—you are in fact the best help that this establishment currently employ - which says a lot for the rest of them." Gabriella uttered a shy and rushed thank you that sounded more like a question, while hurrying behind him as they both headed to what Mr Fulton called the 'Combat Zone.'

"Bolton's over there," He said, before reminding her, "The main guests are Alexander Jameson and his banking partner Alicia Montgomery. They're both the reason all the other guests are here. Remember that."

Gabriella nodded in acknowledgment and headed towards the main party guests, worry of falling, tripping or embarrassing anyone or herself, wracking her body violently. Somehow the worry was quenched and got worse at the same time at the sight of Troy Bolton in his crisp deep blue dress shirt, beige trousers, grey waistcoat and cream tie, serving a very beautiful woman that must have been no older than 26.

Instantly, watching how he interacted with the beautiful woman, Gabriella was the definition of _'green with envy.'_ Gabriella watched him smile at the guests, serving them continuous, over priced starters as they treated him like an old friend.

She smiled to herself. Of course they did, he _was _Troy Bolton after all.

He looked up and smiled at Gabriella with his glittering bright blue eyes, that were even more dazzling as they contrasted with the blue shirt he wore. The tableful of beautiful people gradually acknowledged her too, smiling, as though she was a long lost friend that they were delighted to see.

Troy moved towards her, smiling genuinely as the table of guests carried on with their in-depth conversing.

"Hey, Gab."

She couldn't stop her stomach flutter at the nickname that left his lips.

Troy Bolton, giving her a nickname.

Who would've thought.

"Hi, Troy."

"I'm so glad you're here," he said as they collected used plates and glasses and placed them on circular trays to carry them into the kitchen.

Gabriella smiled as she nervously carried her tray while keeping an eye on the ground so she didn't fall. "And why is that?"

She looked up at Troy as he grinned cheekily, his eyes sparkling. "Because I missed you, Miss Montez. I've been here all day, doing the nine-till-four and the eight-till.. Well, eight-till-_whenever_.. Basically, I've been here all day, and this place seriously sucks without you."

Gabriella wasn't really sure she heard him right, and she had no idea how to react even if she did.

"I barely know you, Troy," she reminded.

She wasn't sure if that was exactly the way she had meant for him to hear her insecurities and confusions, but decided that since she'd started she may as well carry on.

But to her surprise, he wasn't at all wounded in spirit by her statement. He simply nodded with the same-old Bolton graceful and content expression, before adding, "I know," in a complacent voice.

She frowned in confusion at his acceptance.

"And _you_ barely know me."

Again, the same expression and grace was displayed as he repeated "I know," in the same manner. "But that doesn't mean I can't miss you being around, now, does it?"

They both collected food hastily for the many guests, poising their circular trays on their flat palms at the shoulders. Being in sync next to Troy Bolton, a pure 'well-oiled machine,' Gabriella realised she felt almost completely invincible - like nothing could go wrong..

"No," she stated as he began to walk away from her towards one end of the very large dinner table, while she the other. "No, I suppose it doesn't."

–x–X–x–

Being a waiter seemed to excite Troy Bolton more than most. He loved meeting and greeting, filling days where he would normally only have boredom with something he could accomplish, and most importantly, he loved helping people. In the last few years, Troy Bolton had mentally matured, without even realising it at first. For example, when he thought about the copious amounts of money he hoped make if he went Pro, he could see himself giving the money to those who really need it, instead of keeping it all for himself.

However, lately another addition had been sub-consciously added to Troy Bolton's list of those who he would 'give the world' to.

He had no idea how or why, but Gabriella Montez had staked her claim on his mind, body and soul, without even trying.

His thoughts were interrupted by the approaching voice of Emily as she made her way into the kitchen where he dithered.

"Bolton, why are we doing all the work and you're just stood here? You lazy ass!" she exclaimed before hitting him hard on the bicep.

Troy let out a lazy laugh and rubbed his arm excessively, pretending to be hurt.

"Actually Andy, I'm on a three minute break. And considering the guests love me so much, I'm sure they won't mind granting me that." She rolled her eyes as she turned to place empty and dirty plates on the side to be cleaned.

"So, to what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked, feeding her a crooked grin.

"Have you talked to Gabriella?" she asked casually, leaning against the free kitchen counter.

He turned and leant against the wall opposite her, sipping water from his glass.

"Yeah. Why? Is something wrong?"

Emily squinted playfully at him. "I was going to ask _you_ the same question." She looked down and smoothed her apron. "I mean, I know I only met her last Friday, but seriously. She seemed fine, better than fine at first. You know, she seemed perfectly... _herself _the week before I introduced myself to her. And she stayed that way all the way though 'till last Friday when I finally got 'round talking to her... But then she left the work on Friday and she suddenly looked really upset and she hasn't been the same happy person since..." She faded what she was saying and stood in silence.

Troy looked at her. "I haven't known her that long either, Andy. I mean, I've seen her 'round school for two years, but I've never spoken more than two words to her until last week, and after the thing with Sharpay—" he sighed and rubbed her hands down his face.

"_What_ thing with _who-now_?" she exclaimed, aghast.

"Let's just say - When I happened to walk in on the scene I heard the words _'greater sources' _and _'pathetic, disabled ass,_'" he said, gravely.

"Oh man," Emily said as she slammed a hand down on the counter. "That slut gave her the bloody _'I-cannot-fire-you-instantly-until-I-consult-higher-sources'_ speech, didn't she? And she added the words _'pathetic'_ and _'disabled'_ into the mix? Urgh. Poor Gabriella.. No wonder she's looking so defeated this week," she groaned as she began pacing toward the exit. "So what was it that happened after the thing with Sharpay?"

"Guess," he said.

She stood still, turning back towards him, deliberately saying nothing. Troy sighed before speaking.

"She basically broke down—more than a little bit... I feel so.._awful _about it all, Andy. Really, I do. She does so well to be so composed and brave all the time. I honestly don't know how she does it." He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "She doesn't deserve any of this shit!," he quietly exclaimed. "And she _certainly _does not deserve it from Sharpay freakin' Evans." Suddenly he slammed a palm onto the countertop, hard, startling her. "I mean god—she cried, Andy!" he paused, looking at her, forlorn, grabbing his fringe, hard. "She _cried_," he said, his voice cracking at the word. "She sobbed on me," he paused, looking down at the floor. "On _me_ for christ sake!—Someone she only really met a week ago—it was like... like she didn't have anyone else. I mean.. _Me? Really...?_" He sighed, hoping for some womanly incite from Emily. When he received none, he placed a palm to his forehead, exasperated, as he carried on explaining. "She was shaking, and she tried to tell me that Sharpay was right in what she said! She thinks Sharpay was _right_!" he breathed. "She tried to speak but she was so upset and broken that she couldn't even get the freakin' words out!"

Emily shook her head and cast him a sympathetic look as he dropped his head gravely, closing his eyes.

"That's awful Troy," she said, before suddenly switching to anger again at the sight of a distressed Troy and the thought of a broken Gabriella. "That Sharpay - She's such a _bitch_! _Urgh_... Why I oughta'—"

Troy stopped her, and shook his head. "Tell me about it," he said.

"I really just wanna drive her and her ridiculous pink golf cart into the lake!"

He rubbed his face and groaned before chuckling, patting her on the shoulder in agreement. "I'll build the ramp, buddy."

Emily laughed so hard at the idea that her layered hair flew as she threw her head back.

"Oh Troy." She laughed again. "Gabriella's going to be so happy when she realises she practically owns you."

Troy squinted at her, looking sideways at her. "Pff! Please! She does _not_—"

"Oh stop already! We both know you are falling—_have_ fallen—head-over-freakin'-heels in love with her, and honestly I'm not too sure how I feel about tha—"

He shook his head and waved her off quickly, rolling his eyes. "I'm not talking anymore about this with you, Andy."

"Troy, Yo—"

"Nope." he interrupted as he began to pick up his tray and walk through the kitchen towards the restaurant area.

"I—" she tried, again.

"No."

"Troy, listen—"

"Andy. No."

"Just tell me—"

_"NADA."_

She huffed as she overtook him and stormed into the restaurant, unnoticed. She walked straight towards Gabriella who was busy clearing empty champagne glasses onto her tray, alone, as the numbers of staff needed decreased throughout the night. Troy suddenly felt overtaken with nerves.

What was Emily going to do? Going to _say_?

"Gabriella." At the sound of her name, Gabriella looked up from her task. "Could you please tell lover-boy-Bolton over there that I'm not speaking to him_ at all_, because he's a lying _ass _who never listens to anything I say—ever!" She turned on her heel poignantly as Gabriella looked at her, her expression one Troy had never seen before. They both watched as Emily seemed to change her mind and turn back towards them. He was not at all bothered by Emily's attitude. He knew—he hoped—she didn't mean any of it.

Did she?

She was just doing this to embarrass me, show him up...

_Right?_

He took a look at the two girls again.

What was up with Gabriella's expression?

_Urgh._ He inwardly groaned as his head hurt with confusion. _Women! _

"I seriously don't understand what I see in you, Troy Bolton. Really, I don't," Emily concluded, before turning and stalking back into the kitchen with Gabriella's collected tray of empty glasses.

"Andy?" he called, bemused. "Andy!... Emily!" he called again, but she had gone. He sighed with confusion and frustration.

Gabriella looked down at the table and hastily busied herself with clearing the almost-empty champagne table, her expression a hugely ambiguous one.

Troy stood still—squinting, gaping—not sure of anything to say. He watched Gabriella as she squinted too, frowning. He watched the expression on her face and in her eyes, confused. For a moment, Troy swore he saw upset and...hurt pass over her features, but before he could double check, she turned away.

Away from him and, he guessed, away from all they'd accomplished as well—away from all they were, and ever would be.

"Gabriella?" he called after her, helplessly, no idea what he'd done or what went wrong.

He called her again, but she kept walking - walking completely away from him.

His frown set in.

What had just happened?

–x–X–x–

Gabriella couldn't believe what she'd heard. Emily's words swirled and circled her brain over and over. All Gabriella could do was frown and try to analyze some more as she cleared more alcohol glasses.

What was it Emily had said?

_'...I'm not speaking to him AT ALL, because he's a lying _ass_ who never listens to anything I say—ever!...'_

She frowned. She had had her suspicions about the two of them—wasn't sure whether the two of them were, deep down, behind closed doors, more than friends. It had occurred to her a few times over the last week, but she'd never had reason to believe it,

Until now.

What Emily had said first, in Gabriella's mind, was something she'd imagine a girl saying to a guy when he wasn't a very good boyfriend - or something to say to a cheating boyfriend even. Never in a million years did Gabriella imagine people who were 'just friends' saying that to each other.

But most of all, it was the second sentence that had Emily said that spooked Gabriella and confirmed her theory all at once.

_ '...I seriously don't understand what I see in you, Troy Bolton...' _

What she _sees_ in him? What? What did that _mean? _That sounded an awful lot like the cheesy Hollywood line _'I don't know what a ever saw in you,'_ which was generally spoken between couples and lovers... In fact, to Gabriella's knowledge, it almost _always _was...

Was that what they were? A couple? _Lovers,_ even?

Emily had said _'..what I see in you..', _as in present tense..which upset, scared and confused Gabriella even more.

What were they?

She felt hurt rise in her as she carried more glasses into the kitchen and desperately avoided Troy Bolton.

He had someone else.

Someone better. Someone beautiful. Someone... _normal. _

He had someone to love already.

And for a moment she had almost let herself believe she had a chance—believe that, she, _GABRIELLA THE SPAZ_, was allowed a happy ending, too...

If Troy loved Emily, if he was _with _her, then that confirmed Gabriella's conclusion—her fear—that had been building from the beginning:

She was impaired—damaged—ugly—disabled. She was a spaz.

So,

Of course,

She'd been right all along.

Troy Bolton didn't want baggage— didn't want _her. _

Nobody did.

The night wore on and Gabriella, having been fairly optimistic at the beginning, now couldn't wait for it to be over. She'd taken food breaks, toilet breaks, and 'resting' breaks, all to get away from Troy Bolton as much as possible.

It was 11:15PM and the party was in full swing as the guests requested yet more champagne. The beautiful woman from earlier—whose name Gabriella now realised was Alicia Montgomery, the banking partner of the very polished-looking Alexander Jameson—asked for more champagne. Gabriella forced a smile as she went to retrieve some.

How on earth were they not drunk, or even tipsy, already?

She brought the unopened, ice cold champagne bottle to the 'main party guests' end if the large table, realising too late that there was absolutely no one else around to show her how exactly to open it. Not wanting to show herself up by asking any of the guests, Gabriella took her ever-powerful initiative and decided to try and open it herself— she'd seen her mother do it before, how hard could it be?

She undid the foil in the dim and dreamy lighting of the large room and slowly pressed on the metal that held the tight cork in place. She leaned slightly over the bottle in her hands in order to see what she was doing, only too late realising her mistake.

She heard a quiet exclaim come from not to far away—too late—as the pressure of the brand new champagne bottle erupted, causing the cork to shoot upwards at lightening speed, thwacking Gabriella square in the middle of her nose, throwing her head backward. She let out what was not quiet a yell—or scream—or a whimper— in pure agony, before falling to her knees, forgetting the bottle as it fell on it's side on the floor, spilling it's over-priced, bubbling contents onto the stone tiles.

Gabriella gripped her nose—her face—with both her hands, only realising far too late that the whole of the restaurant were watching her, concerned, some moving from their seats to help. She flushed in embarrassment, but quickly forgot about the audience she had gained, at the sight of the thick red liquid dripping mercilessly down her face and through her fingers. She let out of groan among the countless yelps she was making, gagging because of the intensity of the pain, and squeezing her eyes tight.

Right then deciding she's never been in more pain in her entire life.

Suddenly there was a presence by her side, the person quickly used their strength to put an arm around her, picking her up, and leading her outside into the fresh, candlelit night air. She found it hard to maintain any balance with her bad posture and feet because she was majorly preoccupied with the pain she was enduring. For that she was more than glad to have the assisting arm around her. Suddenly she felt herself being sat down on a bench on the restaurant's beautiful veranda edge, away from all the commotion inside.

"_God,_ Gab," the voice—that was unmistakably Troy Bolton—said, grimacing. "_Are you okay? _Let me see."

She was still resisting the urge to gag, the pain so intense that she felt as if she was going to puke her insides, out. Slowly, tipping her head back a little, she released her face from her grip. Blood covered her hands, and she resisted the urge to gag again as she could taste it as it passed her lips and into her mouth.

Troy squinted as his nostrils flared, as if the mere sight of her injury was agony for him too.

"God, Gab," he repeated in a disbelieving tone, as he reached next to him on the bench, where an extensive first-aid kit lay open and ready. He picked up wipes and began to clear up the blood that covered her hands.

"Tip your head back," he said, softly, placing a hand on the back of her head, easing it back against the back of the bench. "Now pinch the bridge of your nose hard and hold this cloth there, okay?" He rubbed her arm reassuringly as she did as he said.

She groaned and gagged again, then whimpered.

"It's h-hurts so bad," she said, she tripped and choked on her words, suddenly realising for the first time that she was crying because of the pain. Her tears quickly merging with her blood and she shook as she desperately tried to breath evenly, but found the pain was making it exceedingly difficult.

Troy looked up at her as he was looking through the first aid kit. "I know, Gab," he said, sympathetically. "I know."

His voice was so _soothing. _

He leant over her while saying, "Gabriella. I have to wipe the blood away first, so keep squeezing to try and keep it from flowing, okay?"

She nodded, her eyes squeezed shut as she desperately tried to breathe properly.

He sighed, wishing he could take the pain away that robbed her of breath. "Gab." She didn't move. "Gabriella." This time she open her eyes. "Breathe. _Please."_ He smoothed a antiseptic wipe over her bloody lips and chin, carefully avoiding her nose, while his other hand found it's way to her hair, smoothing it, keeping her head still, as he desperately tried to soothe her.

He half smiled as she began to breathe a little more normally, but the hard line at her mouth and the squint of her eyes displayed her agony.

"Don't hold back," he said.

She released a held breath. "What?"

"Let it out. Curse, swear—whatever. But don't hold it in. You'll feel better." He looked her in the eye and winked. "I promise you."

She would have smiled if they pain hadn't been plaguing her thoughts.

"Now, this is going to hurt quite a bit, but I need to see if it's broken. Please understand I don't mean to hurt you."

Gabriella looked at him and tried her best to nod. She watched his beautiful bright blue eyes and the 'V' in between his eyes as he concentrated and raised his hand to her face. After cleaning his hands on an antiseptic cloth, he pressed his fingertips along her bruised and puffed-up nose bone as she let out a mixture of curses, groans and hisses, more tears falling before she could stop them. He ran a finger down to the edge and curve of her nose, a gently as he could.

He pulled his hand away, and gave her a reassuring smile.

"I don't think it's broken. You'd be screaming if it was. You'll have a mighty great bruise though."

She smiled, but said nothing, as he picked up an antiseptic wipe and brought it to her face, preparing to wipe the blood from her nose.

She hissed violently at the contact of the chemical-covered cloth as it touched a sore cut that was bleeding there, and the tender skin. Before she could stop herself, _"Fuck," _tumbled from her mouth as a groan of agony.

Troy chuckled at her cursing, and carefully skimmed the wipe over bloody area of her nose, then over her bloody nostrils, wiping the blood away. He suddenly skimmed the cut on her nose and she swore again, gasping. He quickly pulled away. "_Shit!_ I'm sorry, Gab. I should have warned you." He smoothed her hair again as she gave him a look to say she'd forgiven him.

"Gab... I have to clean it—"

"I know," she said, sniffing. "Just do it."

He squeezed her arm before taking a pad covered in antiseptic liquid and slowly padded it on the cut. She hissed, grinding her teeth hard and gripped the bench armrest. Troy bit his lip to resist the urge to pull away instantly.

He cleaned the cut as quickly as he could, noticing instantly how her nose was already a concoction of puffy and very sore, blue and purple flesh. He placed a stitch strip across the cut at the bridge of her now, gently.

"Here," he said, passing her an object as she raised her head from it's tipped position. She look at it, still dazzled. "Ice pack," he informed, placing her hand holding the pack up to her nose. "Hold it there. Hopefully it'll take down some of the swelling, and numb the instant pain you're feeling." He smiled at her.

She tried to smile back.

"_Urgh,_ Well then." she looked up at him, while laughing at herself. "Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck," she joked, before suddenly moaning in agony again, pressing the ice pack hard into her face. "Okay... Maybe it's not so funny... My head hurts so bad."

Troy smiled, crookedly, chuckling. "It will, I'm afraid. God-damn cork hit you with quite a whack."

There was silence for a moment, as they both dwelled in it.

"How do you know so much about this first-aid stuff, Troy?"

"Let's just say a life of basketball can cause a lot of injuries. You learn how to deal with them," he said as he turned to pack up the first-aid kit.

"Well, thank you, Troy. Really," she said, meaningfully from behind the ice pack that was in front of her face.

He smiled and smoothed her hair yet again. "You're welcome, Gab. You're welcome."

She pulled the ice pack away from her face and looked around at the candlelit and fairy-light-lit surroundings, smiling at the sight. She felt the cool air on her bare arms as she shivered and quickly rubbed her skin to chase the goosebumps away.

"You cold?"

She nodded, realising quickly that neither of them had any layers to put on. Her heart sped up as he scooted so that the length of his thigh pressed against hers. He raised his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her into a sideways hug, sharing his warmth. She sighed contently, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her nose and face, as she melted into Troy and his warmth. She felt his warm breath at the shell of her ear as he turned his head toward her as she stayed sat forward. She leant further into him, as the very tip of his nose buried into her hair.

Troy smiled to himself as he felt completely settled and at peace with the girl next to him. He was feeling brave, and so blew on the shell of her ear, hoping to sooth and attract her at the same time.

Gabriella felt him blow intentionally on her ear and she completely became putty in his hands. He curled his arms around her, one around her shoulder, the other completely around her small waist and pulled her into him, practically into his lap, as she curled her legs up onto the bench. He took her ice pack from her and pressed it to her face, watching her as she looked up at him. He smiled and she smiled too. They stayed like that, looking at the water, until Gabriella sighed. She suddenly felt somewhat sleepy because of dizziness. She closed her eyes somewhat dreamily and laid against him.

Little did she know she mirrored Troy's expression exactly.

"Thank you, Troy. Really," she said, sleepily repeating her words from earlier, knowing though that she was no longer saying thank you for the reason he thought.

He grinned against the skin between her neck, closing his eyes, willing himself to relax even more against her. He moved head from her neck and rested it against the side of hers, his lips at the shell of her ear. They lulled in the silence, and Troy let out a contented hum. Before he could stop to think what he was doing, he puckered his lips and dropped a soft, feather-light, almost non-existent kiss on the velvet-textured shell of her ear.

"You're welcome, Gab," he repeated, his voice a murmur as he nuzzled there. He wasn't even sure he was talking about her thanking him anymore, but as he felt her snooze in his arms, his body, mind and soul were temporarily filled with nothing but absolute bliss... He felt himself dozing off as well, so gave her one last reassuring squeeze with his muscular arms, and he kept his lips at her ear as he closed his eyes, and let himself go, whispering again, "You're welcome."


	6. Careful

A/N: _HeyHey:)_

_So, basically– Things at home are really rough right now, and since I believe in honesty and I love you all very much I'm just going to come out and say it._

_My parents are going through a nasty house sale and - eventually - a separation as well. _

_So- Mostly, the stuff I write for Gabriella is a reflection of my mood when I write it.. So those of you who know me more than others may be able to guess the difference in moods in different chapters. _

_I'd just like to say thank you to** Angkeats **because she ROCKS and she reviewed every one of my chapters so far, and it's thanks to HER that this chapter changed drastically from my original draft.. and it's a lot longer too.  
><em>_Girl. You got what you wanted- A sort of heart-to-heart. Though it's not quite like you suggested;)_

_Just FYI- Mrs Bolton kind plays angel and devil's avocet in this. She's kinda the 'voice of reason' I guess. LOL. _

_See you guys later! MAKE MY MONTH and __Hit that review button please! Seriously. It would make me really happy(L)_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

* * *

><p><strong>Easter (Spring) Break Job - Day 14<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Careful<strong>

Sun, warmth and haze greeted Troy Bolton as he opened his eyes the next morning. At first he didn't even attempt to lift his eyelids as his eyes were sore and heavy with sleep. He was sure they must be made of lead at the way they weighed themselves closed no matter how hard he tried to lift them. Softly he groaned to himself as he rolled onto his back on his mattress. His golden skin was warm—too warm—where he lay under his sheets. Gradually he could feel himself waking from his ambiguous dozing state. However, the more conscious he became, the more aware he was of a rapidly increasing 'problem' that was brewing in his White Calvin Klein Boxer briefs. His usual 'morning wood' was turning into something a little more serious and as he lay there staring at the ceiling he realised why.

Last night—after caring for Gabriella Montez and her injury—he had held her to him and she'd nuzzled there—_clung_ there. Just the idea of what could have happened—if they hadn't been in their workplace—filled his mind, making his problem increase to an almost painful level.

Quickly rising from his position—shocked at his extreme reaction to thoughts of her—he made a dash—in nothing but boxer briefs and a white vest—to the bathroom. While doing so, he didn't miss the _very _obvious tent that was visible in his boxers.

His body was tight with unreleased tension as he rounded the corner to the bathroom, images and memories of Gabriella still circling his mind—only to be stopped by the sound of his mother's voice as it travelled up the stairs from the kitchen.

That kind of interruption alone was almost enough to deflate his arousal.

He looked down at the still-present tent and sighed.

_Almost._

"Troy?" she called. "Troy Alexander Bolton, are you up?"

He stopped and rubbed his hand over his face tiredly before replying. "Yeah, Ma! I'm up."

He looked at his 'problem' again and laughed in spite of himself.

"I'm _up _alright," he murmured humorously to himself, quickly proceeding to the bathroom before he had a chance of being caught in his current predicament. He locked the door behind him, before quickly stripping of his underwear and stepping into the big, open shower and running it cold. He jumped at the shock of the sudden temperature and only just stopped himself from letting out a yelp. He calmed his heart as he slightly increased the temperature, letting the water run down his body as he tried desperately to rid the arousal from his body. He gripped his Lynx shower gel bottle and squeezed the liquid into his palm, rubbing into contents into his skin. He laughed to himself at the situation he found himself in—and it was all because of a certain dark haired girl at work.

He'd never felt so drawn to a person before. He found himself wanting to know everything. He wanted to be there for her whenever she needed anything. He wanted her to want him there.

He wondered as he shampooed his hair hastily how he'd actually got to this stage—how he'd began to like Gabriella so much. Maybe it was the idea that he knew nothing about her, other than the obvious information of her name and age. Somehow though, he had proved that that was all he had needed.

He could picture her in her waitress uniform, forcing that overbearing smile of hers as she served guests; the way she watched her feet and how they stepped everywhere she went; and the way she was so well composed in most situations. (All those except the situations that took place when they were alone, that is.)

Other than that though, she was a one-of-a-kind young woman, for sure. Strong, and composed, and on the surface, nothing else showed. How she did it he'd never know.

He stepped out the shower, stretching his muscular body out reaching for the ceiling, releasing its tension, before pulling a towel off the rack and rubbing himself dry. He wrapped the towel low at his waist before standing at the sink. Looking at the reflection of himself in the mirror, he couldn't help himself as his thoughts wondered to Gabriella again.

_ Gabriella. . ._

What is it about her that made her so different?—Made her, _her. _

Other than the obvious truth—the _ugly_, upsetting, unfair truth—that was the way she walked.

Oh _god_, had he really just said that?

He didn't mean that... Did he?

He had always wondered what it was exactly that made her move and walk differently from anyone else he'd ever seen. He'd wondered since the first time he ever laid eyes on her; and it appeared to this day that everyone still knew nothing about her.

Troy shook his head. Especially him. He didn't know a thing, and he couldn't if he tried.

He stopped as he met his eyes in the mirror and he shook his head. He really _had _changed.

"Troy!"

He groaned at the sound of his mothers voice at the bottom of the stairs. He then proceeded to stick his head out the door to reply.

"Yeah?"

"When you get down here, I need help unpacking groceries."

He moved toward his room before she called again.

"And don't forget—you've got work at five."

"'K. Be down in a minute," he called before walking back to his room. He quickly closed the door behind him before his gaze fell on his work outfit of blue dress shirt and white trousers. He pulled on a tight white t-shirt and a pair of baggy camo' shorts over a clean pair of Calvin Klein's. With one spray of cologne he made his way down the stairs.

"There you are," Lucille Bolton smiled as he crisp and chipper only son emerged in the kitchen.

He smiled and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Mornin' Mama." He looked over at the many brown bags on the countertop as he reached for an apple. "More groceries?" he asked in an amused manner.

"Well, you obviously don't realise how much you eat. You AND your father, that is," she smirked as she patted her son's strong arm. "Now—make sure you eat breakfast, _then_—" she pointed to the bags. "—groceries."

"Yes ma'am," Troy agreed in a begrudged tone.

"And maybe, when you finally earn enough to properly fix that deathtrap truck of yours, you can start buying the groceries for me, and then I'll unpack them instead."

His mother rounded the fridge and came back into view as Troy rolled his eyes playfully at her comment.

"Hey—My truck is NOT a deathtrap!"

Lucille's eyebrows rose at him skeptically.

"It's not!" he conceded, before tipping his head to the side a little and licking his bottom lip. "It's work in progress."

His mother laughed as she winked at her son. "Okay then."

Troy chomped at his apple before beginning to unpack the groceries as he hummed to himself. When he was about half way through, his mother reappeared. She leant her shoulder against the fridge and just... watched him.

"Troy," she enquired.

"Hmm?"

"That was the Montez girl you were helping last night, wasn't it?"

Troy looked up and cocked his chin in surprise.

"You mean Gabriella? Yeah. She's a waitress at work."

"And she goes to East High too, doesn't she?"

Troy creased up his eyes as he frowned in confusion.

"Yeah," he said, trying to keep his voice complacent.

She smoothed her apron as she came to stand opposite him on the other side of the kitchen island. "I hope you're being nice to her," she said, searching through a grocery bag.

He couldn't contain the scoff that built up in his throat.

"Of course I am, Mom. I helped her when she got hurt, didn't I?" An unwelcome memory of Gabriella crumpled on the restaurant floor whimpering in agony filled his mind and he resisted the urge to grimace out loud. Quickly he shook his head to will the image away.

"You know that's not what I meant," she conceded.

He sighed. "She's a strong person, Ma. I mean, GOD, she must have to be... But honestly?"

Lucille smiled. "Honestly...?"

"Honestly... I worry about her, and I don't always know why. There are so many jerks who are practically WAITING for the opportunity to screw her over—make fun of her... I just... Can't stand the idea of it."

He suddenly blushed as he realised what he had just voiced. But in the end, he decided it didn't matter. His mother could read him like a book and he'd always been a mommy's boy.

Lucille rounded the island and pulled her son into a hug, her arms around him tightly.

"You're a good person, Troy," she said, his mouth at his shoulder. "You're a BEAUTIFUL person. You care for those who need caring for—and most of all, you do it because you WANT to." She pulled back enough to look into his eyes, pushing his bangs back and kissing his forehead. He squirmed playfully but didn't protest to her comfort. "And most of all, you're not just that—" She smoothed his hair back. "—You're also a MAN. A strong, brave, kind man."

He smiled, touched. "Mom—"

"Now—I KNOW, I'm your mom, I'm inclined to say that—but... it's true."

She smiled as she stepped back and went to pick up a magazine. She turned back to him as he busied himself with groceries to stop the emotion he felt from spilling onto his features.

"Troy?"

He looked up but said nothing.

"If you really do care about Gabriella—which, judging by that 'Bolton-blush' that you wear at every mention of her name, you do—don't spend the rest of your vacation in silence! From what I know, this girl is lonely—and undeserving of it. She has a disposition that makes her different... Please don't be the one to TREAT her like she is..."

He paused but gave her look that said he was listening—interested. "If you don't want all those jerks to get to Gabriella," she paused as he smoothed his arm. "Then... don't let them."

He smiled.

"I've met Gabriella's mom a few times and from what I could tell from her mom, Gabriella's a lot more fragile than you think. What with her disability and all, she has literally ZERO self-esteem... Which means..."

Troy folded his arms over his chest, intrigued. "Which means?"

"Which means _every _little thing you've done in the past to effect a girl will most likely affect Gabriella a _completely_ different way... From the experience I've had at the hospital with people in similar situations, I can _guarantee _she'll be worried to death about how her body looks—her legs, her walking—every _single_ second that she's with you... And, sadly.. that may never go away..."

Troy felt her words hit him deep, deep with his chest, making him ache helplessly.

"Never? But Mom, if that's the case, then how do I...? What do I do? How is that possible?"

"This is not _just _self-consciousness for her, honey. I should think this disability has haunted her just about every moment since she was old enough to think..." She paused for a moment, taking in her son's deeply concentrated and interested look. "Just..." she sighed. "—every girl is special, and all every girl _wants_ is to be made feel exactly that by the boy they love—and I imagine that can only be exceedingly true for Gabriella..."

His gaze was deep as he blushed. He agreed and understood what she was saying, and could feel her trying to imprint it into his brain. He felt his conscience soaking up her words like a sponge.

Before he could stop himself though, curiosity got the better of him.

"What is it that's wrong with her, exactly? I mean, she walks..with her legs turned inwards slightly from the knee down––from what I've noticed anyway—and that's why she trips over her own feet so much... right?... I've never seen anything like it.."

"I couldn't tell you what condition she has if I wanted to, honey. It's a deep and dark part of her and only _she _can tell you... Trust me."

She tried to suppress the smirk of pride that was set to show on her face at her son's obvious interest and observant nature towards Gabriella. He looked like he was planning something.

"Just..." He looked up. "Be careful with her, Troy."

He nodded and she walked into the garden.

_Be careful with her, Troy._

Little did she know that those were the exact words his conscience had been repeating to him on a daily basis for the last two weeks...

_Be careful with her, Troy._

_Be careful. . ._

—x—X—x—

Gabriella groaned as she smoothed her long dark curls and tried to rise stiffly from her bed. Her back felt stiff and sore, as usual, as she finally managed to sit up and make her way, on her usual unbalanced and crooked feet, to her bathroom. She looked herself in the mirror and grimaced at the sight of her nose that had swollen even more than last night, and had turned a mixture of black, red and blue. The dark blue bruising had appeared down the bridge of her nose—right to edges of her eyes where sleep-dust had gathered overnight. Her eyes were sore, too, but unusually bright, and she tried to remember why she felt so chipper. It didn't take long, however, as images of Troy Bolton rescuing her from her shameful accident with the champagne bottle filled her mind.

She could still feel the way he held her on the bench as he leant his head against hers, fighting off the cold air. She could still feel his arms holding her to keep her from the breeze. She remembered looking up at him in the face as he fixed her nose; how the same deep 'V' appeared on his brow when he was in deep concentration; and how he would run his tongue along his lip—upper and/or lower; and how his eyes were always kind and bright.

The very idea of him made her high and giddy.

She looked at herself in the mirror.

She was _grinning._

She shook of the ridiculous expression and went about washing, then drying herself. While doing so, memories of Emily's disagreement with Troy came back to her, and she felt her chipper demeanour slowly leave her.

Before the champagne bottle incident, Gabriella had been sure that something was going on between Troy and Emily. Now though, after being alone with Troy—after feeling him hold her, and _willingly _so—she honestly was nothing short of confused.

Gabriella pulled on her waitress outfit of a light blue dress shirt with her name tag on it and white trousers—well, _tried _to. Her back and neck were worse than usual, making everything more difficult, and she guessed it was all because of the whack to the nose that threw her body out and so knotted her muscles up even more.

She reached behind herself and kneaded her knuckles into a knotted muscle in her upper back, and groaned as it protested against her bones.

She tried to stretch out unsuccessfully before walking downstairs. She was surprised to find her mother in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee.

"Hey, Mom," she said, seating herself on an island stool.

"Hi, honey. Are you okay today? That nose looks worse."

"I'm fine. Really," said Gabriella, as she stood to retrieve a bowl of cereal. Her mother didn't appear to believe her as she watched her daughter walk to get her breakfast skeptically. Gabriella had not realised this however, and an absent-minded hand found it's way to pressing onto a knot in her neck. Her mother was still watching when she sat back down with her breakfast at the kitchen island.

"Is your neck bothering you?"

There was no use in lying.

"A little."

"And your back?"

Gabriella paused. "Yes."

Her mother moved to the fridge.

"Well, I hate to say it, but if you actually DID your exercises like you're supposed to then this wou—"

"I _know,_ Mom."

"You really should be doing them, Gabby. Because it's you that will get it next time we go to see the physio—"

"I don't care about that horrible physiotherapy woman, Mom. You know that."

"Gabriella, you _need _to do them, otherwise—"

Gabriella snapped up her head and looked at her mother.

"I _know_ why I am meant to, Mom. But I don't WANT to. I don't want to. I know what's going to happen to me but to be honest, I don't care."

With that she stood up and turned to take her breakfast outside.

"Gabriella—why are you in your work clothes?"

Gabriella turned. "Because I'm going to work at four."

Maria moved toward her daughter. "No, you're not. Mr Fulton called—the Lava Springs establishment want you to make at least a _slight_ recovery before you go back to work."

Gabriella stood, annoyed, not sure what to do.

"But I WANT to go."

"_'I want'_ never gets, Gabriella."

Gabriella's jaw set in angst as she rolled her eyes and scoffed.

"I'm going anyway. There's a staff lounge. I'll do some studying or something."

"Are you s—"

"I'm sure. Can you drive me or should I call for a ride?"

"No... No, I can drive you."

Gabriella simply nodded complacently and made her way out the door backwards.

"Okay. Thanks."

Gabriella walked outside—careful to avoid uneven slabs she and/or garden furniture that may be sticking out that she could trip over. This didn't help much in the end as she almost tripped over her own inward pointing feet multiple times because of her weariness.

Slowly she lowered herself onto the garden hammock when she reached it and just lay there in the early afternoon sun. She dozed in the warmth until her mother came to tell her she had to leave for Lava Springs—all the while basking in memories of musky cologne, bright blue eyes and the famous crooked Bolton smile.

—x—X—x—

Gabriella had hurried into the empty luxurious staff lounge before Mr Fulton could see her and ask her why she had come into work. Truth was she just didn't want to be at home—where the atmosphere was numb. She buried herself into papers about the Shakespeare classic 'Romeo and Juliet' just for something to do. Somehow, she managed to keep her mind focused on the task at hand—well, that was until someone came through the door.

"Hey, Gab," a voice said, cheerfully.

_And there he is_, Gabriella thought.

She looked up at Troy Bolton as he went to his locker and pulled out a clean light-blue dress shirt as the one he wore was covered in what appeared to be grape juice.

She felt the corners of her mouth pull exceedingly as she tried desperately to prevent a giggle from escaping.

Wait, since when did _Gabriella The Spaz _giggle—and in front of _Troy Bolton_?

Instead, she let out a simple "Hi."

Troy could be seen leaning against his locker with the same old crooked smile of his.

"It seems I just keep walking in on you, eh Montez?"

Gabriella looked up at him briefly before looked back down at her book.

"Yeah. I guess so."

There was silence for a few moments as Troy searched his locker.

Gabriella took a few deep breaths and tried to focus of the Shakespearian text on the page, but something caught her eye. That is when she made the mistake of looking back up at Troy, just as he was reaching over his head to grasp his white t-shirt—that had been underneath his dirty shirt—and pulling it over his head.

She felt he jaw drop as more and more of Troy Bolton's golden, beautiful skin and muscle was revealed as he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it in his locker—as it was covered in the liquid too. She stared at his beautifully angular eagle-wings hopelessly. Before she could stop herself she'd spoken his name, causing him to turn to face her, displaying to her the beautiful sight of his muscular and sculpted chest and abs.

Without looking she KNEW her nipples were already hard under her shirt and bra.

Extraordinary – she mentally recited. Adjective. Very unusual or remarkable.

Sexy – Adjective. Sexually attractive or exciting.

Beautiful – Adjective. Pleasing the senses or mind aesthetically. When used in a phrase: A beautiful body, an ideal of physical beauty.

Example of all: Troy Alexander Bolton, she determined.

She blinked rapidly at trained her eyes to look at his beautiful face as he smiled at her.

"Er," she closed her book and looked at him, smirking. She cocked her head from where she sat and pointed at his locker where the dirty shirts were. "What happened to your shirt?"

He chuckled. "Little boy in the restaurant had a _Ribeana_ disaster."

Gabriella laughed, but sobered as he came and sat opposite her, STILL shirtless.

"Oh. Poor you."

He smiled again. "It's okay. I'm on it," he said, holding up his spare blue shirt that he _still_ hadn't put on yet.

Slowly, he began to put on the button-down carefully.

"What're you studying?"

Gabriella looked at him.

"Hmm?"

"What are you reading?" he asked again.

"Oh," she flushed. "'Romeo and Juliet.' Just some past paper stuff."

Troy came round to look at the book.

"Ah," he said. "That's right—the famous _balcony _scene." He rolled his eyes.

Gabriella cranked her intelligent demeanour up a notch.

"I trust, if that attitude is anything to go by, that you're not a romantic person, Troy Bolton?"

He scoffed slightly and kneeled down at the tables edge, still looking at the text.

"Oh I'm romantic alright—it's just ridiculous!"

She laughed, enjoying the game. "Ridiculous? Ridiculous _how _exactly?"

"Well—It's basically all about an aggressive seventeen year old with anger issues suddenly deciding he's in love with a beautiful girl he's only just met—and who he also ends up marrying and dying for, at _will_—and _all_ in the space of a few days."

Gabriella rolled his eyes and laughed, unable to deny him truth in his answer.

"Oh so you're a cynic now?"

He smiled at her remark as he stood and went back to his seat.

"No..." he paused. "No, just a romantic that feels insulted by Shakespeare cliqué and false representation of us romantics, that's all."

Gabriella sat, slightly amazed, for a moment. She had no doubt that Troy Bolton could be a romantic—with _that_ face, mind _and_ body, he could be anything he wanted, no doubt—but it was the sheer scale at which he wasn't afraid to admit it to her that scared and stunned her the most.

Gabriella laughed to herself.

"Yeah. His representation of us hopeless girls isn't so attractive either," she joked. "Although—it is accurate," she added, teasingly.

Troy laughed and shook his head. When he spoke his voice was thick and cracked with humour.

"Gabriella. You are most _definitely not_ hopeless."

Gabriella looked at him ludicrously and pointed to her dark blue swollen nose.

"I think my nose begs to differ."

Troy laughed but his attention and concern was now centered on her very-obvious injury. He couldn't help but frown at the way bruising had risen all the way down the bridge of her nose to the inner-corners of her eyes.

"It's kinda'—gross." he said, distantly.

She let her jaw drop a little for effect and then rolled her eyes.

"Well aren't you a charmer," she joked, sarcastically.

He chuckled, but said, "Gab, I should have been quicker with the ice on that," He sounded quiet and unsure. "I'm sorry."

She looked at him and laughed. "Don't be sorry! It was stupid, clumsy me that got into the whole thing anyway. I mean—it's a totally-_me _thing to do."

Troy squinted, confused.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean," he said, his voice deep.

Gabriella tried not to focus too much on the way his—somehow sexy—dark and bushy brows moved lower as he expressed confusion.

She laughed in spite of herself at his comment.

"Oh, but of course you do. You were there when I fell in Ms Darbus' English class the other day and made a total fool of myself. You don't have to pretend for my sake, Troy."

Suddenly she felt shy and exposed—just as she always did in school hallways—and so turned back to her book, this time having no trouble focusing on the words.

Troy stood up and for a moment contemplated leaving her to it—

But then remembered what his mother had told him this morning.

"I'm not pretending, Gabriella."

She looked at him, bemused, then sighed and gave in.

"It's a totally _spazzy _thing to do, okay? Whacking myself with the cork of a champagne bottle was a totally—" she had to brace herself, disbelieving that she was about to say that word out loud again. "—_spazticated_ thing to do, even for a _spaz _like me."

Troy could see the agony flash through her features as she muttered that word. He wasn't even sure he was meant to hear everything—but he had, and he couldn't stand her poisonous attitude.

"No, Gabriella, no!" He was suddenly across the room looking right at her. "Don't ever say that!" he said, forcefully. "If you believe that's what you are, then—then there's no point in any of this." He rounded the sofa and looked her in the face—her face buried in her book. "But I don't believe you think that. You wouldn't bother to be as strong as you are if you did."

She looked up. _I'm strong?_ she thought.

"Don't ever say that," he somewhat pleaded. "Because if you do—" he stopped for a moment as he came to eye-to-eye level with her. "—then _they've_ won."

He'd hit the nail on the head there, she knew it, and so did he. But what he said next—as he face neared to hers—only shocked her more.

"Please don't let them win," he pleaded again, his voice became soft—almost a whisper––as he placed a hand over hers. He looked into her eyes where unshed tears were shimmering.

"Please don't lock me out... Please don't let them take you away..."

_Don't let them take you away from _me.

By this point she was looking up at him as he looked down—his face not too far from hers.

She shook her head hastily as she tried to swallow her tears.

"I won't. I'm sorry... I won't ever say it again," she whispered back. Troy sighed with relief at her reply and ran a hand through his hair. Suddenly his chipper, eager, crooked-grin self was back as if he had never left.

"Er," he hummed. "I should probably be heading back out there."

Gabriella smiled knowingly.

"That you should."

He nodded and clasped his hands together in the silence before walking towards the door.

"Troy—" she called him back before she had chance to think, and he seemed willing.

"Yes?" he said, spinning round.

"You're definitely a Romeo—you just... don't see it yet."

Troy smiled fully—an even more beautiful sight—and licked his upper lip. He nodded, the smile never leaving him.

"Gabriella. You're most very definitely a Juliet—beauty, brains, hopelessness and all..." He moved closer and whispered cheekily, "—_you just don't see it yet_," copying her words for effect before walking out the door with a 'See you later.'

Gabriella grinned happily, and for once didn't try to wipe the grin away.

_ See you later _indeed.


	7. Hopeless

A/N: _Quickly gonna say:_

_I watched the VMA's last night. And I cannot tell you how happy I was when Lady Gaga (Dressed as Jo) announced that she was giving out the 'Michael Jackson Video Vanguard Award' to Britney Spears. The thing with that award is that they don't always give it out every year, unless there is someone who deserves it - so no one was more surprised than me when they decided to give it out this year! _

_And a day before Michael's birthday no less! _

_I'm SO glad both Britney & Gaga acknowledged him - after all, the Vanguard award is named after him for a reason. _

_So yeah - the point of this is - I'd like to say a huge FanFiction **HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY to MJ**, who would have been 53 yesterday... I really do miss you, Mike. Wish you were here! RIP. _

_ANYWAY GUYS,_

_You're lucky to have gotten this one to be honest, because, at the mo, I'm just about to start school again AND things at home have got even worse, So I didn't think I'd get any writing done... But, TADA. _

_So, lets just say you're lucky I have the Notes app on my iPhone, because without it most likely NON of my inspirations would be written down. LOL. _

_This one is kinda an introduction to a new wave of events in the story, so, hope you like it. I'm kinda excited about it because I could finally let Troy Bolton 'The Romantic' loose a little bit ;)_

_Peace! xoxox_

_STARSWalkBACKWARD xx_

**Disclaimer: **_Still own nothing. Shame really. They're beautiful people. I wish I did. _

* * *

><p><strong>Spring (Easter) Break Job – Day 14<strong>

* * *

><p><strong><span>Hopeless<span>**

Gabriella let a laugh ring as she sat opposite her friend of one whole year, Taylor Mckessie, on her comfortable double bed. Taylor was always busy and so insisted on seeing Gabriella for a brief update after she got back from studying at Lava Springs that night.

"Gabi, I _mean_ it this time. What's happening at Lava Springs? I know there's something. The Gabi I know would have forced her mother to let her quit by now... _Unless..._" she trailed off, leaving a pointing finger in the space between them. She gasped suddenly as her eyes went wide. "Is it a boy? Is there a boy?"

Gabriella knew the moment she had said nothing that she shouldn't have paused at all.

"There _is_ a boy!" she exclaimed, quickly leaning even further towards Gabriella, who leant backwards against the post of her four-poster bed.

"No, Taylor. There is _not _a boy... Of course there isn't," she said, murmuring the last of her words in a low voice, meaning Taylor was non the wiser to her self-bashing comment.

"Hmm..." Taylor hummed suspiciously. "I'm not sure I believe you, but_ o_-_kay_."

Gabriella scoffed and shook her head cynically. "There IS no boy, Tay. Really."

"Okay... Whatever you say."

Gabriella smoothed a hand through her unruly curls and turned away in order to get away from the subject. Taylor carried on reading her study textbook as they chatted about homework and classes, and Gabriella couldn't help but notice how closed off and different she was acting with Taylor compared to when she was when she was with... HIM.

_And how beautiful _he _is too!_, she thought, before scolding herself for being so ridiculous to even willingly think such things.

_You love him. You know you do_, her conscience scoffed.

"I should be getting home," Taylor said as she grabbed her books and collected them together. "My mom's having one of her _Zumba _evenings," she grimaced at the thought. "I need to be there to ice her after she's finished." She laughed as she headed for Gabriella. "See ya' Gabs," she said as she hugged her tightly. Gabriella briefly lost all sense of balance as she stood on her toes to hug her friend, and began to fall sideways. They laughed as they both almost fell on the bed again, before saying their farewells as Taylor made her way down the stairs and out the front door.

Gabriella dropped her spritely demeanour as soon as she heard the front door slam. She threw herself down on her bed and closed her eyes. Since did she bother with a happy demeanour this much?

She dozed lazily, not bothering to move from the position she landed in, until the sudden ping of her laptop filled the room and brought her to full consciousness.

She made her way to the desk and looked at her email, only to be stunned by what she saw.

FROM: **FACEBOOK**

_Hi Gabriella! _

_**Troy Bolton** has sent you a friend request on Facebook. _

_Click on the link below to accept. _

Gabriella felt her heart race a little, which caused her to giggle to herself with happiness.

_Urgh_, she thought. _Again with the giggling!_

She quickly picked up her laptop and carried it over to the bed, placing it on her lap as she struggled with her tight muscles to sit cross-legged.

After realising she couldn't continue to sit in that position because her fused bones wouldn't let her, she moved to lean against a cushion with her legs straight instead.

She sat for a moment while her hands trembled slightly with anticipation. As usual though, she was paused in her actions as her over-active mind started running full speed. She realised with a huge smile that in order for him to have added her on Facebook—which everyone thought she never used—he must have thought about it. After all, _he _added _her_. He thought of _her_. The whole idea had Gabriella smiling disbelievingly to herself—that is until she realised that he could quite as easily have added her because Facebook 'recommended' him to. She frowned at the thought, then scoffed. _Of course _that's what happened. _Of course _he didn't search through all the 'Gabriella Montez's on Facebook just to see if she had a profile! What was she thinking? Of course he wouldn't do that.

_NAÏVE, adjective. Definition: (Of a person or action) showing a lack of experience, wisdom, or judgment,_ her conscience recited cynically._ AKA, YOU. _

She quickly logged into the social networking site—inwardly blushing as she always did at her password which was, quite literally _password_—and, sure enough, there on her Facebook homepage was a red '1' on the friend requests icon. Quickly resisting the urge to read—and reap with jealousy—over all the pretty East High girls' latest beautiful profile pictures with countless 'You are so beautiful' comments from countless guys and best friends; and the latest change of beautiful girls' 'relationship statuses'—she clicked on the friend request. She quickly clicked 'Accept'—only then to be greeted by the beautiful chaos that was Troy Bolton's profile.

Even at first glance, it was nothing short of obvious that he was loved by everyone and hated by none. He had 465 'friends'—most of which appeared to be having on-going conversations on his profile 'Wall', in particular Chad Danforth and Zeke Baylor, fellow Wildcat B-Ball champions—and was tagged in at least five new photo albums, that she could see. He didn't appear to care about updating statuses, as his last was posted a few weeks ago, and it read, _'Still waiting for Spring Break. It better be good.' _

She smiled. "You wanted a fun spring break, and you got stuck at work with me. Bad luck, Bolton," she murmured to herself, humorously.

She then turned her attention to the one thing that most likely lured all those 'friends' to his page in the first place: his profile picture.

It was a candid shot—looking as if it had been taken when at first he hadn't realised. He was stood against metal railings with water behind him, smiling genuinely—a layer a pearl whites clearly visible in the dusk lighting. The water's edge was covered in lights and candles, and in the early evening light they reflected beautifully off his face. He was dressed in a crisp black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and dark blue jeans that sat low on his hips. They were skinny on the thigh but baggy from the knee down—_Bootleg jeans_, her mind supplied. He was even more tanned then usual, making his cobalt irises stand out beautifully, even in the low light. His hair looked darker than usual as it was cut shorter. His fridge was pushed out the way, but a few strands had strayed slightly onto his forehead. He wore a plain leather band around his thick muscular wrist, as well as a black silicon band that was designed to look like the edge of a camera lens.

This made her wonder if she had been wrong about him—was he stylish AND creative, too?

_Creative or not, he really is beautiful_, her conscience pushed.

She rolled her eyes as she went to look at the caption and comments of the photo.

_'On Vacation in Europe,'_ the caption read.

_Europe_, her mind approved. _Beautiful, exotic and fancy. Niice._

"Oh hush up," she hissed, scolding her penetrating thoughts.

She clicked on the comments and 'likes' icon in the bottom corner of the photo and she felt her jaw drop at the sight of the 148 people who had 'liked' the photo and the—she paused to count—40 comments— all saying the likes of _'Wow,'__'Hot photo, Troy' 'Seriously. Call me'__'I'm free anytime, hot stuff'_ and countless others alike. This was not including the many from Troy saying 'thank you' for the compliments, and one comment from Chad saying _'Why didn't you take me with you to Europe, dude? I'm hurt.'_

She smiled at the sweet way Troy commented back thanking each girl who complimented him, _instead _of being cocky, and she chuckled at the obvious way he tried to skirt around those who wrote comments of a inappropriate and/or sexual nature. She began laughing wholeheartedly as she read the conversation that then occurred between Chad and Troy after Chad's 'Why didn't you take me?' comment—which included comments of a joke-filled and brotherly nature, such as, _'Sorry, man. I love you really, dude'_ from Troy, and _'Yeah I know you do, you gay bugger'_ from Chad.

She smiled. They really did seem to be like brothers.

Everyone in town knew that Troy Bolton was practically a Danforth, and Chad Danforth was practically a Bolton. She realised how much she'd love to know everything about someone like they do each other; how much she admired the two of them for still being as close as they always have been. To be that close to Troy would make her the happiest.. Well, the happiest it was possible for her to be.

Suddenly the popping sound of an incoming instant Facebook message could be heard as a chat box popped up with** Troy Bolton** written at the top. Gabriella's stomach fluttered.

_Ohmigod! It's him! It's Troy!_

**Troy **_Hi Gab :)_

Gabriella looked at her hands that hovered over the keys.

_Alright Gabriella_._ It's just Troy. __Don't over-think this_.

She wrote a reply, then deleted it, then typed another, settling with:

**Gabriella** Hi Troy :)

The was a pause, before the chat informed her 'Troy Bolton is typing.'

**Troy**_ Are you alright? How's the face? _

She giggled as she touched her still bruised and swollen nose.

**Gabriella** Ugly as ever, thank you.

**Troy **_Pfff. Whatever. We both know that's a lie. _

Gabriella gulped with excitement.

**Gabriella **I don't think it is. :P

Pause.

**Troy **_Of course you don't. _

This time it was Gabriella's turn to pause, but before she could reply, Troy had typed again.

**Troy**_ Now then Hopeless Juliet, may I enquire something? _

Gabriella had to blink to realise that the term of endearment was in fact real. She hadn't imagined it at all.

**Gabriella** ... Go on then. ;)

Ohmigod! she panicked. Had she REALLY just put a wink face?

She looked again.

SHIT, she had.

**Troy**_ Would it be appropriate for a ridiculous and hopeless romantic to ask a Juliet like yourself for her number? Considering I have no way of contacting you as of yet...?_

Gabriella became very conscience of a fact she couldn't breathe.

Pause.

**Gabriella** Well... Since you asked so nicely...

That was when Gabriella did something she never thought she'd be able to do. She gave Troy Bolton her number.

She tried not to get her hopes up about the confidence she felt within her, because, more than anything, she knew the reason she was feeling and acting this way was only because she was hidden behind a computer. Which was cowardly, she knew—but entirely true in every way.

She looked at the screen as it told her he was typing again.

**Troy **_Thank you. I'm very grateful. _

Gabriella snorted.

**Gabriella **Grateful? For MY number? Haa. Likely, Bolton.

He hesitated.

**Troy **_Why the sarcasm, Montez? _

She didn't know how to reply to that, and she didn't have to. He messaged again.

**Troy **_Thank you for giving me your number, Gabriella. I didn't think you'd give it to me, to be perfectly honest. So, thank you._

Gabriella sighed. She couldn't get into that kind of 'Why would you think that?' stuff right now, so she gave in.

**Gabriella** Well, you obviously don't realise how effective your ridiculously romantic ways are, Romeo. ;P

He didn't reply at first, and she held her breath, worried she'd pushed her luck with her implication.

**Troy **_Do my ridiculously romantic ways effect YOU, Hopeless Juliet? _

Gabriella huffed in shock, letting out the breath she was holding—only to take another breath in and hold it tight. She decided to take another leap.

**Gabriella** Wouldn't you like to know... ;)

There were a few moments of stillness, and Gabriella felt panic erupt within her.

_Oh no. He doesn't want to know.__Shiit. _

She looked out her balcony doors and saw a deep blue night sky that was gradually turning black, before turning to her bedside clock and reading the time of 9:43PM.. She watched as Facebook finally informed her Troy was typing a message.

And the four words that appeared in front of her sucked the air right out of her lungs.

**Troy **_Yes, actually. I would. _

That was when the old fashioned panic she experienced daily set in; the panic that was caused purely because she had never had any experiences with a boy of any kind, and she would always be worried her entire life that she was doing everything wrong.

Inexperience and vulnerability caused fear within her, that she had yet to learn how to quench.

The panic burned—mercilessly, unforgivingly, and violently—in her chest and so she did what she did best.

She ran.

Her fingers trembled as she tried to type as fast as possible.

**Gabriella** I have to go xx

She slammed the laptop shut, suddenly realising her breathing was rapid, almost as though she had ran a marathon. She felt guilty straight away, her heart still racing.

Had she really just done that?

_God_, she thought._ I really am fucking useless!_

She clumsily pulled off her t-shirt and shorts and pulled on a extra large t-shirt and bed socks. She placed her phone on charge at her bedside, and settled in bed with a glass of water and her copy of Romeo and Juliet. She chewed her thumbnail as she stared at the word 'Romeo' and her mind drifted to poor Troy abandoned on the other end of their Internet conversation as she cut him off.

"_God_," she groaned out loud and she threw the book at the opposite wall, exasperated. "Why am I such a fucking _coward_?"

She lay in her many pillows and sighed as she felt the soft cotton against her cheek. Still, Troy's beautiful profile picture was wallpapered behind her eyes, and didn't fade no matter how much she willed it to.

And that's when her phone began to ring.

She jumped and quickly picked it up in her hand. Not recognizing the number, she held back. (That was another thing that scared her more than it should a person—answering the phone.) It kept ringing, and the noise put her on edge. So, to purely shut it up, she accepted the call and spoke_ 'Hello?'_ into the handset.

There was the tiniest of pauses, before a—smooth as caramel—voice could be heard on the other end of the line. Gabriella suddenly lost the will to hold herself upright.

_"Hey, Gab. It's Troy."_

_HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT. _

"..uh..Hi, Troy," she said, unsure.

_"Are you alright?"_

What kind of a question was that?

"I'm just fine. How are you?"

There was a chuckle._ "I'm good, thank you, Montez."_

This time, there was a much more pregnant pause.

"So, what there a particular reason you called?" she asked in her most prestigious voice to amuse him.

He chuckled again._ "Yes, actually.. Would you like to meet me tomorrow? Say... Outside the mall? We could go bowling or something?" _

Little did Gabriella know, Troy held his breath with anxiety just as long as she held hers with shock.

"Er..." She didn't know how to do this—any of it. So she went with the obvious. "..Sure! I'd love to."

She felt giddy as she could practically _hear_ the gorgeous smile in his voice.

_"Alright, cool. See you tomorrow... Say..."_ he paused. _"..2PM?"_

"2PM.. Great. Er, do you mind if I just go check with my mom?"

_"Not at all. I'll be here."_

Gabriella grinned at his comment, before placing down the phone as if it was made of china. She ran down the stairs so fast she almost fell twice, and called for her mother who was sat reading the paper in front of the television in the living room.

Her hast caused her mother to glance up in surprise.

"Mom. I'm not doing anything tomorrow, am I?"

Her mother frowned in surprise and slowly shook her head slightly.

"No... I don't think so. Why?"

Gabriella took a moment to consider her answer.

"Can I go to the mall around two?

Her mother looked almost relieved.

"Of course. Are you meeting someone?"

Gabriella was ready to turn and leave. "Yes.. A colleague from Lava Springs," she said, before quickly adding. "Um.. I'm actually on the phone... So... I can go, right?"

Her mother laughed and looked at her skeptically, picking up on her on-edge attitude.

"Yes, Gabi. You can go. Now, go back to the phone call with your... _friend_."

Gabriella definitely didn't miss the obvious emphasis on the word 'friend,' but was too focused on getting back to Troy, so let it slide as she threw a careless 'thank you' her mother's way and ran back up the stairs. Grabbing the phone, she forgot to catch her breath.

"Hello," she said, breathlessly, and she heard a soft laugh on the end of the line.

_"Hey,"_ he said, in that voice that could only be described as 'sweet as sugar', 'smooth as honey', and 'rich as treacle'—all at the same time.

_Stop,_ her conscience scolded._ This is not the time for the sweet tooth!_

"Mom said I'm allowed to go, so..."

"Great. Mall entrance. Two o'clock."

"Okay. I guess I'll see you then, then."

_OHMIGOD_. _Way to go, Gabriella. Could you _be_ anymore lame? _

_"I guess so," _he laughed, then yawned.

Gabriella giggled, humorously. "Tired, Bolton?"

He chuckled and the phone crackled a little. _"Yes, actually. Coach works me hard, even outta' school."_

"Must be tough: being the coach's son."

_"He makes me practice a little harder, I guess,"_ he said, tiredly.

Gabriella smiled genuinely. "I'll bet he means well. I mean, he _is_ your dad."

Troy sighed, agreeing. _"I know... But that doesn't make his speed drills any easier."_

Gabriella laughed and lay back against the pillows.

"No. I can imagine it doesn't."

There was a pause of the other end, before Gabriella let out a sudden yawn that had erupted out of no where.

Troy laughed, softly.

_"It appears my weariness is catchy. This is sad, Montez," _he joked. _"It's only just past ten o'clock on a Saturday night and we're both ready to hit the hay." _

At his sentence, Gabriella's mind was suddenly involuntarily filled with the provocative image of Troy Bolton 'hitting the hay' with _her_—an idea that she couldn't deny made her stomach clench with desire.

"Yeah.." She tried to agree in a joking manner, but her attempt was not far from half-hearted. The reason being that her mind was still otherwise preoccupied with the racy image of the two of them together—in _bed_.

She heard Troy hum and groan sleepily as he did what sounded like a stretch. There was a shuffle before he spoke again.

_"Anyway, sad or not, I better be going," _he said, quietly.

He really did sound sleepy.

_"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" _

Gabriella smiled, her eyes closing as sleep suddenly began to try and claim her as well.

"Yup," she mumbled.

Again, she was sure she could almost _hear _the smile on his face.

"Goodnight, Troy—or should I say, Ridiculous Romeo."

His chuckle was nothing longer then a syllable, just as hers had been, and she wondered if he felt just as sleepy as she did.

_"Humm.. Goodnight, my dear Hopeless Juliet." _

She was pretty positive he was practically falling asleep as he hung up the phone, and she lay there a while after he was gone, smiling at her ceiling.

_How on earth could this be happening?_

She sat up to turn off her computer, realising as she looked at the screen that her Facebook was still logged in, but on standby. She let herself scan through the public streams of East High students' exciting social lives, and then curled herself into a tighter bundle under her duvet.

Just as she was about to close the webpage and log off, Facebook refreshed itself, revealing the latest posts and photos that had been posted since she had last refreshed when she had logged on. It was all mostly _boys _this, and _bitches_ that, the same old same old, and she quickly wondered why on earth she was still reading.

That is until her eyes fell on the most recent status at the top of her newsfeed, posted just two minutes ago. Her heart stammered as she felt her heart jump into her throat.

_What in the world was she meant to do now?_

_**Troy Bolton  
><strong>_Oh, Hopeless Juliet, you say you're 'as ugly as ever'... But honey, you're not. You just spelt beautiful wrong.. '

Gabriella stared, and stared. She tried not to blink, worried that if she did then the words would disappear and it would all turn out to be some dream she'd fallen deep into.

But no matter how long she stared, or how many times she blinked, there they stayed.

At first, she felt a guilty relief that he hadn't referred to he by her name—she didn't need that kind of attention.

Second, she finally let herself grin, and giggle, and even happy-clap—just the once––with complete _glee._

For this was the moment that, in the back of her mind, she knew was _the _turning point. Getting her heart played with, or stamped on, or made fun of, was no longer important, and she had a feeling it never would be again.

That was yesterday.

Today—Troy Bolton had implied she was _beautiful._ On a social networking site. At peak time.

Today—just for now, she was in heaven.

Then, she remembered their bowling arrangement.

_Bowling_, she thought. _Oh no_. _Why the hell did _I, _'ZERO-BALANCE EXTRAORDINAIRE'_, _agree to _bowling_?_

_Because Troy Bolton asked you, that's why!_

"Darn it!," she cursed, before letting her anxiety fade for the time being, enjoying the giddiness.

_This should be interesting_... she thought.

_Hopeless_ Juliet, indeed.


	8. Floating Boats and Tainting Cheeks

A/N: _Hello, lovely people!_

_Okay - this is a very VERY quick note since the chapter is so long (my longest so far!);) _

_Thank you THANK YOU to my bestie **LittleMissEmz **who is my beta reader, and plot brainstormer as well as many MANY other things. Love you, Em!_

_And another HUGE thank you to **Angkeats **who writes AMAZING and ESSAY long honest reviews and keeps me on my toes and questioning everything that I could make better. One day I hope I could be a tenth of the writer that she is! _

_Anyway, there is homework to be done, and GCSE Controlled Assessments to prepare for, and an Avril Lavigne concert outfit to plan, so, I will leave you to it, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! _

_¡Hasta Luego! :) _

_––STARSWalkBACKWARD xxxxx_

* * *

><p><strong><em>This chapter is dedicated to all those who lost their lives in the horrific attacks on 911/2001_**

**_Never forget. _**

* * *

><p><strong>Spring (Easter) Break Job –<strong> Day 15 (Sunday)

* * *

><p><em>"But when you smile at the ground, it ain't hard to tell: You don't know you're beautiful - that's what makes you beautiful." –<em>"What Makes You Beautiful" ––One Direction.<em>_

**Floating Boats and Tainting Cheeks**

Anxiety gnawed at Gabriella as she stared at almost the entire contents of her wardrobe as it lay on the floor in front of her. She huffed in exasperation.

"What to wear. What to wear.." she muttered to herself.

After some difficulty, and with a streaming nose and eyes, she put in her contact lenses—that no one except Taylor and her mother knew she wore—and then stashed away her glasses into her bag in case of a contact emergency.

She walked into her bathroom and began to rummage through her make up bag—one that she never bothered to use the contents of on normal school days. She pulled out her round compact of_ MaxFactor Miracle Foundation_, and began to use the pad to spread the medium shade liquid lightly across the skin of her cheeks and—delicately—tried to put some on her swollen black and blue nose. After also smoothing on slight blush and bronzer, she leant forward towards the mirror to line her eyes lightly with black eyeliner—the edge of her eyes tidily finished with a slight flick. She then curled her dark eyelashes with her mascara brush and ran a lipgloss brush over her lips before puckering them. She flashed one or two smiles in the mirror, thinking, _Shame about the nose_, before spraying on perfume and looking down at herself and sighing.

Still dressed in her t-shirt and shorts pajamas, she walked out her room and down the stairs.

"Mom?"

Maria Montez appeared through the open glass doors and smiled.

"Yes?"

"I.. don't know what to wear to go to the mall today.."

Her mom smiled, secretly loving the idea of her daughter finally making a visible extra effort, and she didn't miss the make up—that was an unusual sight to see—on her face.

"Shall I come help you?"

Gabriella hesitated, then smiled.

"I don't have anything to wear," she said, sheepishly.

Her mother smiled happily seeing her adopt a typical teenager attitude.

"Come on, honey," she said, leading the way up the stars. "I might know of something you can wear."

—x—X—x—

Gabriella gulped nervously as her stomach ached and her palms grew clammy. She hoped her outfit—a black and white horizontally striped vest with an white oversized top on top that fell off one shoulder, blue jeans and ballet pumps—was the right choice, and not too casual. Her heart was speeding at a hundred miles per hour as she walked from where her mother had dropped her off, to the outside of the mall. Her curls that fell at the curve of her breasts bounced as she walked in the way she did round the corner and gratefully felt the smooth concrete of the cleanly finished seating area beneath her feet. Slowly, she stopped wringing her hands nervously and slowly built up the courage to look up from the ground. She took in her surroundings from where she stood at the end of the entrance courtyard. She looked on as a couple sat together on one of the the brick walls around the edge, holding hands, laughing and leaning against each other. She just looked at them. And though she knew better, she found herself wondering how their story started, and wishing that she could be in a relationship not much different from that...

Somedays she really did just_ wish_...

It was when her gaze was distracted towards the water sculpture that was in the centre of the courtyard entrance that she lost her breath again.

There, stood by the water in the glinting sun, was Troy Bolton in all his beautiful, muscular glory—dressed in a navy and white stripe polo-shirt and a pair of slim _Bootleg _jeans, no less.

She felt panic hit her, but this time she swallowed it down whole. She took slow, as steady as possible steps towards him, and and as he spotted her a soft endearing smile graced his features. She was almost in front of him, and barely had time to catch her breath before he spoke.

"I didn't think you'd come." he said, slightly louder than needed to fill the space between them and to make his voice carry over the noise of the water splashing next to them.

_Is he looking at my legs? Is he watching the way I walk? Is he noticing how my butt is sticking out? Or how I'm having real trouble keeping my balance even as I stand still?_

Despite her inner continuous ramblings, she did finally find the courage to look up, and she found herself wondering how she had ever managed to look away. She realised he was waiting on her response, so made her best attempt at a slightly flirtatious raised eyebrow expression.

"I said I would, didn't I?"

She walked past him—breathing in the heavenly scent of his cologne as she did so—and began walking towards the mall entrance. She turned, and, cautiously, walked backwards as she looked at him.

"Are you coming, then?"

She watched in delight as his gaze lifted from the ground and the top row of his teeth became visible in his signature crooked smile. He chuckled and hurried to catch up with her—which he did easily.

_Please _please _don't look at me when I walk, _she begged, silently.

"Yup," he said as he walked alongside her. "So," he paused as they walked through the main foyer. "Where to first? You hungry?"

Gabriella suddenly felt like she wanted to be here with him forever—to never come down from the high of his presence—and to bond with him as much as possible, in every way. So she did something she never thought she'd do.

"Wait a second, Bolton. No way. Don't you dare try to fatten me up even more than I already am, and most definitely not before you whoop my ass at bowling! I mean, come on. Play fair."

Her tone was teasing and it took him by surprise.

He nodded his head to himself and held in a chuckle as he nudged his strong shoulder lightly against her small one.

He laughed. "Gabriella. You're not fat... And you're wrong. I can play fair."

She scrunched up her face, scoffing.

"Oh _please_. I _am _fat––How would you know if I wasn't anyway?––And besides, you're a _basketball_ player. You wouldn't know a fair game if it hit you in the face!"

His jaw dropped as his faked shock at her words.

"I resent that! You are _not _fat, Gabriella.." He chuckled. "I think you'll find you're talking about West High _Knight idiot _there. They're all complete fucking _cheats_."

Gabriella smirked, playfully.

"I actually quite like the Knights," she teased.

Troy scoffed as he bit the inside of his cheek.

"You didn't strike me as one of those girls who likes neckless, cheating roitheads," he said simply in a falsely-serious manner––his tone rising at the end of his sentence as he shrugged.

She laughed, enjoying this game.

"Oh, yeah. The hairier and more muscular the better," she said gruffly.

He looked over at her, faking astonishment, chuckling. He suddenly felt the awkward feeling seep over him at the idea of Gabriella with one of those_ douche-bags_. Instead of showing it, however, he said "Uhh, yeah," in a joking and dismissive voice, which made her laugh again.

"You know," he paused, "if you _did _date one of those douche-bags, it would be a real loss."

Gabriella stopped and scoffed at him, disbelieving.

"I could say the same to you about cheerleaders," she conceded, getting away from the subject of dating.

He smiled at her totally incorrect assumption.

"You _could_... but, let's just say, cheerleaders don't_ float my boat_."

Gabriella felt her stomach flutter at his VERY obvious sexual innuendo.

"I'm intrigued.. What _does _float a ridiculous Romeo's... _boat?"_

_Oh. My. God_, she thought to herself, scoldingly. _What do you call _that_? Way to be subtle, Gabriella!_

When she looked over at him walking along beside her though, he was grinning, amused. Troy couldn't quite believe they were having this conversation, as his mind filled with memories of the very eager erection he'd woken up to that morning. He could have quite easily told her the truth, but suddenly feeling shy, he joked instead.

"Hardcore porn, mostly," he said, pretending he was completely serious, with a shrug.

She laughed even harder than she had before, and he laughed along too.

"How original," she deadpanned for humour.

"Alright. Alright." He walked in front of her and she stopped as his eyes glinted at her with his rarely seen cheeky attitude.

And she didn't miss the way his eyes were on her when she wasn't looking at him.

"Come on then..." he said, leaning towards her. In that moment, she could notice every little detail on his face. "Bowling it is."

—x—X—x—

"Urgh, _fuck_," she cursed as she plonked herself down on the seating around the ball-return.

Troy chuckled and smiled at her from where he sat beside her.

Gabriella looked across at him.

"Did I ever mention I _hate _bowling?"

Troy chuckled lightly, suddenly conscious of how close they were sat in the dark––the nearest lighting shining from the carpeted foyer that was raised many meters behind them. Most of the bowling lanes had were all half-hidden in darkness except the later four––being used by the elderly. The only ceiling lights on in the bowling area were the glowing Ultra Violet light bulbs that we in the ceiling hidden behind painted black flats, which were causing all white clothing to have a florescent glow. Troy remembered how he loved the every-colour-under-the-sun space themed stencils that were stuck all over the huge walls since he was a kid. They were littered all over the nearest and far walls, as well as the end of the lanes. The lanes themselves were lit up by flashing neon lights on the down the barriers. Troy smiled to himself. Yes, he loved them as a kid because of how brightly they shined, but right now, at this very moment, he was just glad to be in the dark.

"Maybe a few times since we got here." Troy stood up and beckoned her to follow him, before picking up a very heavy-looking bowling ball. She followed after him onto the shiny clapped wooden flooring, where every step she took was weary as the bowling shoes were flat and slid everywhere. She looked at his back—the white stripes on his navy and white striped polo-shirt glowing under the ultra-violet effect lighting—and she smiled slightly at his beautifully strong build, and the back of his ruffled dark hair.

_Who would have thought the back of someone's head could be so attractive?_

He turned and smiled at her, his white teeth practically glowing under the violet UV lights as well.

"So, _because _I'm such a great person," he teased. "I'm going to to teach you. Would you like that?"

Gabriella was nothing short of nervous, but unlike every other occasion in her life, this time, she let it show.

"If I'm honest, not really."

He smiled and tipped his head to the side. "Oh, come_ onnn_." He pulled her with him to the edge of the lane, before getting into position with the ball. He brought his arm back and then sudden threw it forward and released the ball. Gabriella's eyes bulged at the speed at which it glided along the wood and hit the pins hard, knocking them all down.

"_STRIKE!_" he exclaimed, turning toward her, grinning.

Again, both noticed they were very close all of a sudden.

"That was..." Gabriella was honestly lost for words, and even more impressed than she thought she'd ever be.

"Absolutely-positutely fantastic?" he teased, wiggling his eyebrows at her. She laughed, but was very conscious of the face she was blushing.

She held her finger and thumb in front of her face with an inch in between. "A lil' bit."

His head fell back as he laughed and gave her a bright sideways glance.

"_Now_, it's your turn," he said as he turned to get another bowling ball from the ball-return. He returned a second later with a lighter-looking orange one, and passed it to Gabriella, she held it dumbly in her arms.

He was laughing again.

"Gabriella. At least _try _to hold it like you're trying."

She looked at him and then down at the ball.

She heard him sigh, and before she could even react, Troy Bolton came up behind her and took hold of her right wrist gently, looking over her right shoulder at her.

When he spoke, his voice was softer than before.

"Okay, so... You see these three holes? Put two fingers into these two holes here," he said as he gently pushed her fingers in the right place. "And your thumb in the bigger bottom one.."

Gabriella gulped, suddenly very conscious of the memories from Biology that bounced around in her head at the mention of 'three holes.'

_I wonder if I was meant to hear that as an innuendo?_

She slid two fingers and thumb into the ball holes, and didn't miss the way his other hand that wasn't holding her wrist was gently on her hip, keeping her steady.

When she deliberately slowed her movements as she slid her fingers into the three finger holes, she heard him gulp.

She smiled.

_Yup. Definitely an innuendo_, she thought, giddily.

"So, to throw the ball," he said, as he stood with his body against the back of hers. "You bring your arm back." He pulled her arm back with the hand that was around her wrist while his pointer finger supported the back of her hand. "And then throw forward, and release." He pushed her arm forward and she let go of the ball, eyes still on the pins as she felt his gaze on her. She watched as the ball slid—a lot slower than Troy's had—towards the pins, and ended up knocking the centre six down.

"Not bad for a beginner, Montez," he said, and without even looking she knew he was smiling. His body was still pressed against her back and she started having real trouble hiding the nerves, fear and heat that were projecting off her in waves.

"What makes you think I'm a beginner?" she joked in a low, quiet voice.

He laughed and stepped back a bit to move in front of her.

"A hunch."

They both smiled, and took a moment to silently regard each other. The white on their clothes was glowing fiercely under the lighting, particularly Gabriella's plain white top that fell off one shoulder. She noticed this, and looked down at her feet, only to see Troy's bowling shoes were glowing just as brightly too, so she laughed.

"I'm blinding," she giggled, referring to and pulling at her white slouch pullover, only to be stopped by Troy however, as he looked at her intensely with his azure gaze.

He smiled slightly as he looked down and his lashes spread over his cheeks. When he looked up, his intensity took her breath away.

"You got that right," he said, lowly.

_Did he _really _just imply what I think he just implied?_

His gaze fell on her lips and then back again, and she could feel the heat of his hand scorching hers where he was _still _holding it.

He was smiling, as he was just about to lift a hand to her hair.

Then––just like that––it was over.

Troy's phone began to buzz in his jeans, and so he quickly retracted his hand and answered it. Gabriella turned away and so she missed the miffed expression on his face.

_ "Hello?" _he demanded through clenched teeth.

_"Hey, Bolton! What's _up_?" _

Gabriella felt him tense even more beside her as he began to walk away from her, passed the ball-return and seating, and up the steps and into the normally lit area. She watched his exasperated face as she walked in his direction slowly.

"_Andy? _What the _fuck _are you doing calling me now? You _know _where I am! You––" He never got to finish his rant.

"_Troy! Bolton! Coo-y!_" shouted the same female voice and Troy turned to seen the very faces he really hadn't wanted to see. That of Paul "PJ" Puckett and Alex Mason from Lava Springs, and Chad Danforth, Zeke Baylor from East High, and, of _course, _Emily Anderson was in the centre of all of them, calling his name at the top of her lungs.

Oh,_ how _he was going to enjoy killing each one of them.

Little did he realise Gabriella was feeling the same.

She moved, without thinking, to stand behind Troy but a few metres back, hiding herself from their view. They were all so cheery, so _loud. _Why did they have to be so loud?

"Hoops!" she heard Chad Danforth shout from now only a few metres away. She felt her nerves building to an even higher level than she was sure they ever had been.

_Go away! Go away! _she wished, out of nothing but fear, but, as usual, her wish did not come anywhere near coming true.

She felt ill with nerves as Troy reluctantly moved away from her to _very _reluctantly handshake his friends and say hello to Emily. No sooner was he done with his greetings, was Emily was on her way over––a painfully unfair spring in her graceful step.

"Hey Gabriella!" she smiled hugely as she screeched, leaning in and hugging her breathless.

Gabriella was resisting the urge to not hug back at all.

_Urgh. Hey yourself. _

"Fancy seeing you two here! Are you having fun?"

Her smile, though meant only for good, made Gabriella want to slap her silly. She _really _wasn't in the mood for this today. She wanted Troy. All of, and nothing but.

"Yeah. We were having a great time, thank you," she said, trying desperately not to put to much emphasis on _were. _

"I hope we didn't interrupt anything..." she trailed.

Gabriella didn't refrain from rolling her eyes.

"You did," she said, loud enough for Emily to hear, but Emily just seemed to brush it aside as she turned to the others.

"Bolton, my man. Who's this?" Chad, the chump with the afro, asked, nodding towards Gabriella.

Her forehead creased. _How rude!_

Troy seemed to feel the same.

"Chad... This is _Gabriella._"

"Yes, Chad. You know...? I'm in your history..." He looked blank. "Homeroom... " Still blank. "Math." She took steps towards Troy and that, she knew, would be when he'd realise, and he did. Seeing her walk, he gasped in realization.

"_Ohh!" _he said. He then paused and felt bad for not recognizing her until she walked, and so tried to cover it up. "Oh, yeah.. Math, homeroom.. history. Right."

Gabriella rolled her eyes, pretending his callus attitude didn't hurt. Just before she was about to crumble, as per usual, Troy came to her rescue.

"Alright––_Alright._ Why don't you guys go get something to eat, okay?" He looked from them to her and took a small step her way, and she smiled at the adorable 'V' in between his eyebrows again.

"What about you, dude?" asked Chad as the others made their way happily towards the restaurant and bar area.

Troy looked over his shoulder at Gabriella and gave her a smile.

"Gabriella and I have a bowling lesson to finish. Don't we, Gab?"

She felt a smile stretch across her face; one she had only ever shared with her computer screen and empty air; one only Troy Bolton could cause.

"Yeah," she agreed, boldly, looking at Troy and no where else. "That we do."

––x––X––x––

_This is seriously _just _my luck_, scowled Gabriella inwardly as she was sat on the cushioned booth seat in the bowling alley restaurant, next to Emily, and opposite Troy. She looked up from her hands—breaking her solemn thoughts—as she felt a foot nudge her lower leg under the table. It had been Troy's foot, she realised, as she met his gaze and he smiled knowingly at her. Chad and the rest of the guys were in the middle of an animated conversation with Emily, so didn't seem to notice Gabriella's solemn attitude, or Troy's attempts to silently communicate with her.

Troy's eyes didn't leave her, so she tried despite her selfish mood, to give him her happiest smile back. In reality though, it was most definitely more of a half-hearted smile.

Troy rubbed a palm over his eye and brow, before sighing a little and placing his lower arms out on the table.

Suddenly, Gabriella was very conscious of the fact that if she did the same, then her hands would meet him in the middle of the table.

_Urgh, stop tempting yourself!_ her mind scolded.

"What is _up _with you, man?" Chad asked Troy as he turned away from the group conversation that was almost non-existent all of a sudden.

Troy looked at him, dumbfounded. "What do you mean?"

Chad laughed. "You're... not being you! You're quiet! C'mon, man. How about you tell PJ and the rest of them the story about _Daisy _from _England_—"

Gabriella looked at Troy, stunned at these words, and also very curious.

_Who_ from _where _now?

"Who—?" she started to ask who this _Daisy _was, but as soon as her eyes fell on Troy, she could feel as well as see that the mention had hit a nerve.

"Shall we go?" Troy asked Gabriella quickly and quietly from across the table. She looked at him a nodded.

"Sure.. Sure. Okay."

Troy stood, much to his friends discontent, and jumped over the back of the booth with ease, climbing over the seat behind and then walking round. Gabriella felt so undermined at the sight of such physical capabilities that she could only dream of. He could try to understand her all he liked, but he would never understand how jealous and solemn she felt seeing him be able to move like she would never be able to.

It was a selfish feeling to have, and—for a second or two—it always made her feel awful. At least she had legs! Some people didn't even have them!

But then there were many, _many _other times when she was too full of her life-times worth of self-pity to even care.

She was who she was, and if no one else was going to care enough to even try to connect with her at her level, then she wouldn't bother to try either.

On appearance, she may _look _like she had what everyone else had—Taylor and her mom would always told her she had great legs—but she didn't. Her immediate response to anyone who complimented her legs when she was in pessimistic mood was to comment on how 'They don't work properly so they can't be that great.'

She snapped out of her thoughts to see that Emily had moved so she could side-step out of the booth to where Troy was standing. A task that for anyone else wouldn't even enter their thoughts—they'd just do it—but for Gabriella, it was yet another thing to worry about.

She wobbled once or twice and almost fell back onto her bottom on the seat, but thankfully didn't. When she did succeed in getting round to Troy alive and well, she was greeted by his soft smile and a very gentle enquiry into whether was alright. She just nodded and then look down at the floor, then at the wall, then at another table, trying desperately not to look back at the table of almost strangers. She heard them saying their 'see you laters', and so shyly turned her eyes back to them and said quick and quiet goodbye.

They could still hear Chad's voice complaining and teasing about their departure as they stepped out the exit.

"Are you really alright?" Troy asked once they were out in the early evening breeze.

She looked at him from where she walked beside him.

"I'm alright now," she said, cryptically, keeping her eyes looking at where she was going.

"You really don't like meeting new people, do you?" he observed, gently.

Gabriella smiled, secretly glad that he'd noticed.

"No," she laughed, feeling herself react. "I think 'don't like' is slightly incorrect, though..." she trailed.

He frowned slightly, intrigued. "What do you mean?"

"I don't _dislike _it.. It's more that I'm..."

He looked right at her as their pace slowed as they walked across the green. She looked sideways at him and let out a breath.

"It's more that I'm afraid."

Troy regarded her profile as she looked down as she kept on walking. The breeze picked up curly tendrils of her ebony hair and he watched as they danced crazily before falling back in place when the wind dropped.

"Why are you so afraid?" he asked. "I mean.. People like you."

Gabriella looked at him skeptically, before carefully stepping ahead of him towards Starbucks.

"People _like _people like _you_, Troy. People don't _like _people like me. They _sympathize _and _tolerate _me. There's a difference."

Troy frowned at her comment, but decided not to push it while they were stood in a Starbucks queue. His eyes trailed as he looked at the faces of others in the queue, suddenly noticing something he couldn't believe he had never noticed before.

He followed the eyes of a little girl who as stood across from them seemingly waiting for her mom. He witnessed disbelievingly how the little girl's gaze—who he guessed was around seven years old—followed Gabriella's movements in front of him as the queue moved along. The girl seemed besotted with Gabriella's way of walking, and a small inquisitive frown appeared on her face. He looked to the brunette in front of him and could instantly tell by her tensing body language that she had noticed this one particular penetrating stare. Then, much to Troy's horror, the little girl proceeded to make her way towards Gabriella with a determined look on her face. Troy had an awful feeling he knew exactly what she was intending to ask. The girl stood in front of Gabriella now and Troy could physically _feel _her awkwardness and discomfort seep through him from the air around them.

"What's wrong with your leg?" the girl enquired carelessly, but she was so cute that he knew even _he _couldn't mad at her. The more mature of people may have laughed at the situation and shrugged it off, but it was in this moment that he realised that Gabriella was not mature through and through. She was terrified, it appeared, at confronting her biggest fear: herself.

Troy willed his eyes not to look down at the way her legs moved at the girl's question, only just succeeding. He did take note more closely, however, of how her legs themselves, though gorgeous in proportions, weren't quite straightened out at the knee, and how her knees were turning slightly inward, closer to touching than any other persons would be. As well as this, he had noticed on more than one occasion, that there was a much more definite curve to the angle of her hips, and a much bigger dip at her lower back, which stuck out, and so, _accentuated _her, in Troy's eyes, rather gorgeous ass.

_Okay. That's enough of that! _his conscience scolded of his racy thoughts.

She swallowed hard and blushed fiercely at being asked this question in Troy's presence, by a complete naïve stranger.

"I was born with it," she said, softly. Her voice sounded so broken and defeated that Troy just wanted to take her away, hold her and never let her go.

Troy himself was secretly curious about her answer, but the little girl seemed satisfied. She smiled innocently and said, "Get better," before walking back to wait in her original place.

Troy breathed in and let out a sad sigh, just as Gabriella mumbled his very thoughts to herself sadly.

"You can't get better from something you're born with."

Troy wished he could speak, but honestly had no idea what the right thing to say would be.

He watched her take a moment, before she turned to him and gave him her best fake smile, telling him to order her a hot chocolate and meet her outside. Nodding kindly, he quickly ordered her her hot chocolate (with all the toppings) and a black coffee for himself. He made his way to the door, only to be stopped by the little girl from before.

"Mister," she said, getting his attention.

"Yes, er..." he trailed, prompting for her name.

"Sammy," she said, sweetly.

"Sammy," he repeated. "I'm Troy. Where's your mom?"

Sammy looked back at the queue.

"Over there. Ordering a drink for my dad."

Troy nodded. "Is there something you wanted?"

Other _than embarrassing my Gabriella beyond recognition?_ his inner self growled.

He made the smile on his face extra secure as to make sure that his deepest thoughts didn't show.

_Woah, woah, woah. Wait a second_, he stopped himself. _Did I just say '_my' _Gabriella? Since when do I see her as mine?_

"Troy," she said, innocently. "Is she your girlfriend? The girl who walks different?"

Troy smiled softly at her, glad she had phrased her words respectably, unlike how some people would. He wasn't at all sure where his answer came from as he said, "I hope so."

Sammy smiled back at him and said, "She looks sad. Why does she look sad? Isn't it your job if your her boyfriend to stop her from being sad? To make her feel special?"

Anyone of Troy's friends would have simply laughed and pushed the little girls' comments aside—he himself would have not too long ago––but this time, he felt different. "Yeah, Sammy," he smiled thoughtfully. "You're right. It is."

Sammy beamed, happy to have been right, before saying goodbye to Troy and running off to her very skeptical-looking mom. Troy was still smiling at the little girl's very truthful words as he walked towards the bench outside that Gabriella had sat herself on, overlooking the long, rather busy high street.

He passed her her drink, and she smiled and thanked him. For a moment he simply watched her tip the drink, and only managing to drink the thick layer of cream and marshmallows, and not much else. He smiled to himself at the sight of her enjoying the marshmallows and, hopefully, forgetting the experience with the little girl, and became to drink his coffee.

"Enjoying the whole works there?" he asked, humorously, nodding towards the piles of cream and tiny marshmallows.

Gabriella smiled somewhat guiltily, and nodded meekly after a moment. "Yes, very much, thank you," she laughed. "Just look at this thing. No wonder I'm fat."

Her tone indicated a joke, however the look on her face said she meant it. She wasn't fishing for compliments, Troy realised, as he recalled how she never believe a single kind thing that had come out his mouth.

So, why had she said it?

"You're not fat, Gab," he stated in a definite tone for the second time in one day.

Gabriella rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically, as if he'd just repeat a sentence ten times.

"Yes, I am!" she said, her voice much bolder than it ever had been when the same subject had come up earlier.

Before he could react, she was speaking again.

"You just don't see it because I'm good at hiding it, but I am fat."

Troy narrowed his eyes, bemused, and, honestly, somewhat intrigued.

"Unlike you, of course," she said, quickly. "I doubt you'd know fat if it hit you in the face."

He laughed, remembering she had said almost the exact same sentence earlier about fair play.

"What _is _it with you and things hitting me in the face?"

She giggled and shrugged innocently.

"You're probably right though. I've always either been the lanky or muscular one," he said, pretending to boast.

She laughed, feeling brave.

"Well, we _both _know what you are now."

He laughed, feeling awkward with her suggested compliment.

He's always been secretly shy about his body and it's development.

"Hmm.. I'm not so sure about that," he said quickly, wanting to change the subject.

There was silence for a minute or two, as both teens were absorbed in their own thoughts. Troy was slowly plucking up the courage to pry into the subject of her insecurities again. He couldn't deny his curiosity was one of these days going to get the better of him.

"Gabriella," he started, carefully. "You know you said you get... afraid?"

She turned to him and said nothing.

"Well... Were you ever afraid of... me?"

Troy took an extra moment to gulp his hot coffee to try and cover up his nerves, and as he did so Gabriella watched him, noticing how his thick, somehow gorgeous throat moved and how his Adams-apple bobbed as he swallowed.

Gabriella smiled at him, reassuringly, ready to spill the truth.

"No," she said. "I was never afraid of you."

Troy was frowning a little and smiling at the same time, with his head slightly tipped to the left.

_He's adorable. _

"I was more scared of what you'd think of me..." she tested.

Troy, finding this comment seemingly ridiculous, laughed to himself.

"What?" she asked of his humour, afraid he was laughing at her.

"Nothing... It's just... Same here," he said ludicrously, and Gabriella looked at him in disbelief. "Gabriella. _I_ was afraid what _you_ would think of _me_."

That's when she laughed so hard that Troy was sure she'd spill her drink.

"No way," she conceded, really not believing a word.

Troy suddenly pulled his feet up onto the bench as he leant towards her, his face inches above hers as he look down at her. He took in the entire expanse of her heart-shaped face—her small freckles on her nose and the larger one on her cheek; her dark chocolatey eyes; and her pink bow-shaped lips.

There was a slight apprehensive frown on her face as she looked up at him.

"Way," he whispered in agreement, the corner of his lips tugging up into his signature crooked smile

He heard her swallow as his eyes skimmed down her and watched the muscles of her throat move under the skin.

"Do I scare you now?... Like this?" he asked, his voice still almost a whisper. He prayed she'd say no.

She couldn't trust herself to speak, so shook her head slowly.

She watched Troy, regarding his beautiful face; his tan; the tiny freckles on his nose; the small mole on the edge of his cheek, not far from the end of his sideburns; and, of course, his bright, deep, emotional blue eyes.

He was so close now to her face that she was starting to panic, only the soothing feeling of his hand on her arm keeping her from running.

A few inches more and he would be kissing her.

She sighed. How lovely that would be.

But it was something she could only ever dream about.

"Troy," she said, quickly pulling back completely so that her back was pressing painfully against the wood of the bench armrest.

He nudged his nose lightly with hers––a gesture that was so endearing she could cry––and his lips were just about to meet hers, so she panicked and pushed against him.

"Troy. Not now––Please I..." she stammered as he pulled himself back, feeling, more than anything, shy and scared about being so close to him in a public place.

His face flawed with rejection as he looked away and picked up his coffee, moving to sit at the very opposite end of the bench.

"I'm going to go and get a drink," he said, quickly leaving back towards Starbucks.

"But you... already... have a drink..." she murmured, speaking to the empty space that he had left behind.

Gabriella watched the passers by, confused and angry at herself for embarrassing Troy and being cowardly. She suddenly noticed a familiar face looking at her from across the street.

It was Emily.

She was pulling out her phone a pressed a few buttons. A few seconds after doing so, Gabriella's phone rang in her jean pocket. She looked up to see Emily had her phone pressed to her ear, and so she pulled out her phone and answered it.

Emily's eyes never felt hers as her voice filled Gabriella's ear.

"I'm sorry, Gabriella."

Gabriella frowned. "Sorry about what?"

Emily made her way over and stood at the edge of the bench, not looking at her, still talking to her down the phone.

"That I ruined your date."

Gabriella scrunched up her face. "It wasn't a––"

"I told the guys not to interrupt, to leave you to it, but they wouldn't listen once they found out where Troy was..."

Gabriella looked at her. "How did they find out?"

Emily frowned, guiltily. "I told them."

Gabriella resisted the urge to shout at her for that.

"I didn't think they'd, you know, want to be so nosey and butt in..."

She seemed honestly guilty and sad about it all, so Gabriella stood up, picking up her bag from by the bench foot, and smiled at her.

"It's okay, Emily. You didn't interrupt that much anyway."

Suddenly, the old Emily returned as she tucked her phone back in her pocket.

_"That much?"_ she grinned as she linked arms with Gabriella and they walked towards the fashion store Forever 21.

Gabriella blushed, knowing they'd been busted.

"_Pal_-ease, Gabi. I've _seen _you two at work, and I saw you just a minute ago on that _bench_..." She winked and then laughed. "He really doesn't take rejection well, does he?"

Gabriella looked at her, quickly. "Oh, no. We didn't––I..mea––I didn't mean to––"

_"Gabriella?" _

She turned to find Troy there, frowning fiercely while making his way towards them.

"I was looking for you," he said, his voice filled with relief. "I thought I'd scared you off or something."

Emily laughed loudly at this before Gabriella could have a chance to reply, causing Troy to turn to him, his expression screaming bloody murder.

"Is that funny to you? The fact I was afraid out of my _mind _just now thinking I'd screwed up any chance of getting Gabriella to trust me? Thinking she'd run away from me?" Gabriella stood, shocked he'd spoke about her when she was right in front of him. His anger raged, though, like nothing she'd ever seen.

"What is _up _with you? Why can't you just leave me _alone_?"

It didn't take a genius to figure out that there was some history behind Emily and Troy's relationship that she had yet to discover.

Although, Emily didn't really appear phased.

"C'mon, Gab. Let's go. We should probably be getting home," he said, turning and walking in the other direction, dodging oncoming passers by.

Gabriella flashed her an apologetic smile and turned to follow him.

"Bye, Gabriella!" Emily shouted, happily, waving.

Gabriella waved and walked after the retreating figure, dressed in a navy and white striped polo shirt, a few metres in front of her.

"Troy!" she called, watching as he turned around and gave her a smile like he'd never been angry at all. She walked quickly to catch him up, not missing how the muscles on the bottom of her feet were starting to burn and ache, and she scolded herself.

_Urgh. Again with the flat shoes! I should no better than to put my posture out even more than it already is. Stupid me. Note to self: where higher shoes next time I have to chase after Troy Bolton. _

Once she'd caught up with him, she was a little out of breath, and laughed at herself. "I can't walk anywhere near as fast as you."

Troy smiled at her, but it was when he didn't speak that she guessed there was something on his mind. She was just about to enquire about it, but before she could, his voice cut through.

"Do you have to be home at a certain time?" he asked, looking forward as he walked with her back through the mall.

"By eleven," she said, equally as distracted as he was.

She heard him take a deep breath, before he stopped walking, causing her to stop too.

"What?" she asked of his hesitation.

He looked around them, noticing a group of girls stood outside some girly fashion store, all of whom were looking their way––_Gabriella's _way.

And laughing, snidely.

_Oh, great. I'm going to end up having to kill the whole town at this rate, _he thought, scornfully to himself. _ Why can't they see how great she is? Why sneer at her like that? She's just a teenage girl the same as you are, _he thought, directing his thoughts towards the group._ Only _better_––she doesn't really act like one. Why can't they see what I see? ...Why don't they just leave Brie alone?_

He then found himself smiling smugly at the new affectionate nickname he had thought of for the girl beside him, before pulling her in front of him––giving the sneering _bitches _a proper view.

"What are you doing?" she asked, unaware of anything going on around her other than Troy ever-enhancing presence.

"Do you want to come back to mine?" he asked quickly. Suddenly feeling like he couldn't get her to say yes fast enough.

"Yours? Really?"

She looked so surprised that Troy had to laugh, and he laughed _extra _loud to intrigue and show off to their despicable audience.

She looked down at the shiny white granite flooring, afraid to answer. "Er... Sure... I mean, are you sure that would be okay?"

Troy gave her one of his winning smiles as he looked at her in the face.

She really didn't have a clue.

"Of course,' he said in his most obvious and caring tone.

She was still hesitating.

"C'_mon _Brie..." he moved closer as the group of gossiping bitchy girls swanned over to the benches opposite them in the large mall foyer, Gabriella still unaware. "My mom really wants to meet you... Besides... I've got a really _really _awesome treehouse...?" he teased, trying his best to tempt her.

The treehouse comment made her smile equally wide back at him, as she decided to play along.

"Oh, well then. Why didn't you tell me that before?" she giggled.

_Oh my lord, _Troy sighed, inwardly. _Giggle again. Please, Brie. _His loved-up inner self began to barge past his barriers.

She was still smiling at him and he realised she'd agreed, so he joked by pumping a fist in the air a little, before losing his nerve and growing quiet again. She were still close enough to touch, and he was finding it increasingly hard to resist.

"Shall we go, then?" he asked, giddy himself.

"Sure! As long as I can call my mom from the car."

He smiled. She was so sweet and innocent and careful.

"Of course," he said. Then he decided to be brave a take a leap. "Would it be inappropriate for a Ridiculous Romeo, such as myself, to request something of you, Hopeless Juliet?"

She smiled and laughed at him, while he was ever-conscious of the fact that the pack of crude and awful bitchy girls was getting closer, a sly-looking brunette seemingly leading them, preparing to attack.

"Well, that all depends," Gabriella went on, oblivious for once. "On what exactly it is the Ridiculous Romeo in question was requesting of me."

Troy peered into her cocoa butter eyes, enjoying the intellectual banter she always brought to the table.

"May I hold your hand until we find our ride home?"

Gabriella suddenly felt so happy that she didn't breathe for a second. No boy had ever held her hand before, let alone _requested _if he could.

He offered his hand to her, stretching it out wide for everyone around them to see. She flushed, but with happiness instead of embarrassment, and took his hand daintily, grinning when their fingers entwined slowly.

Wow. She could _so _get used to this.

Suddenly, Troy pulled her into his side with their fingers were connected, so that not even a golfball would bit between them. He hugged her tightly for a second longer than necessary, and whispered in her ear in the cheeky manner of his.

"You realise that group of _god-awful _girls have been watching us this whole time?" he asked, his voice trapped within her curls so only she could hear him speak, and to the outside world, including those girls, it looked like he was up to much more than whispering.

"Who?" He stopped her from looking around. "No," she murmured. "No. I didn't."

"Good," he grinned, pulling back a little. "Because that means you won't mind if I do this," and just like that, he kissed her swollen bruised purple nose lightly as not to hurt her, then her cheek more slowly,before nuzzling his face into her temple.

"Home, m'lady?" he asked, in his best clique British accent.

"Yes," she agreed in hers. "'Home James, and don't spare the horses!'"


	9. Yesterday is History

A/N: _Yo:)_

_So, basically, I have an English Lit Controlled Assessment over this next week, but managed to get this written for you!_

_Thank you, yet again, to **LittleMissEmz **who is always so happy to read my latest stuff and help me out :)_

_And, also, a big thank you to **Jadiee** who left a review that, for some reason, really touched me and motivated me with this one. _

_So, thank you guys!_

_Keep up the great reviews! _

_––STARSWalkBACKWARD xxxx_

* * *

><p><strong>Spring (Easter) Break Job – Day 15 (Sunday)<strong>

* * *

><p><em>"Don't know how you feel,<br>You seem to keep it to yourself.  
>Would you climb mountains,<br>To show me this is something real._

_You're all the things I'm looking For everything and so much more._

_What I think  
>You are just perfect.<br>Could it be  
>That I am worth it.<br>Is this thing an open door  
>Walk right through to something more.<br>You and me  
>My life would change in a second.<br>In a second," _

_––In a Second – Aly & AJ_

**Yesterday is History**

Chad Danforth frowned as he walked along with Zeke Baylor. The others—PJ, Jason, and Emily—had left, and so they both wondered around together after leaving the bowling alley; still not quite believing they had run into Troy Bolton, with Gabriella Montez together.

Chad was silent—as Zeke was busy texting his scary girlfriend Sharpay Evans—because he couldn't help but feel confused about running into Troy with _Gabriella_— the weird disabled girl.

It wasn't just that, though.

The whole idea scared him beyond belief, and that was mostly because at the moment he saw his best friend with her, he suddenly felt like he didn't know him at all.

The very idea that he'd lost one of the only constant presences in his life was petrifying...

And also incredibly intriguing considering_ who_ exactly he was losing his best friend to.

"Dude!" Zeke tapped him furiously.

Chad snapped out of his thoughts as they rounded the corner to the shoe store Footlocker.

"Looks like Adam-The-Asshole-Kingston is back," Zeke said, surprised as he pointed at a young male who was at least eight hundred yards in front of them and unaware of their presence. He was very broad, tall, and had hair slightly lighter than Troy Bolton's—at a sandy brown. He was the infamous Adam Kingston, who was East High aspiring basketball pointer guard, turned West High American football quarterback.

Chad shook his head.

"And here I was thinking we'd get a clear run at Lava Springs this vacation without the disturbance of Adam-the A-hole-Kingston," he groaned. "God help us if he turns up to Lava Springs on tomorrow and Troy sees he's not still skiing."

Zeke chuckled in agreement. "Tell me about it. All you guys that work there don't even speak to him. I don't see why the douche still bothers to turn up at the freakin' job––when he's not on vacation."

Chad scoffed. "Same reason we all wait on Sharpay look-a-likes: college applications of course."

Zeke laughed at that, used to his friends cracking the jokes about his totally high-maintenance girlfriend.

"Sharpay even thinks he's a douche though, and that's saying something!"

They revved up into laughter again as they carried on in their direction, not bothering to try to hide themselves. After all, Adam Kingston used to be one of them three years ago—an East High 'superstar'. Even when he was, however, he wasn't as good as he always though he was. He had always failed to intimidate Chad particularly, even with his extra half a foot of height.

Chad always found it so hard to believe even his own memories when he thought about how all four of them—himself, Troy, Zeke and Adam—had once been great friends.

They carried on walking as their conversation drifted—neither of them quite ready to tackle the foreboding conversation of their encounter with Troy and Gabriella at the bowling alley.

But now, they realised, they had another near-encounter to worry about.

Adam Kingston was back from vacation early, and if he turned up to work at Lava Springs tomorrow in his usual post, then yet again, there would be a feud of some kind.

"Something's going to happen, man. I can feel it."

Zeke looked at him, agreeing. "Totally. As long as Troy has Gabriella, then—"

"Troy _has _her? What? How do you know he even likes her?" Chad asked, dreading his friend's answer.

"Dude. How could you possibly think he doesn't?"

Chad looked at his friend, the idea of the two as a couple only just sinking in.

"He would've told us—told _me,"_ he protested, meekly.

"Would he? Would he _really? _I mean, okay, If we're being honest here, all most people see when they look at Gabriella is that she's a size 12, she has something wrong with her legs, and she's a dork. I don't know why you're so surprised anyway. Troy has always had unorthodox taste in girls, since, like, eighth grade." He paused to looked at his friend. "Besides, this is Troy we're talking about! He only talks about girls when he's feeling threatened," he chuckled, "And no one's exactly threatening him for Gabriella Montez, now are they?"

Chad pondering this for a moment, taking in all the arguments his friend had put forward.

"Kingston just might, though."

Zeke looked ahead of them. "If he does, then he's an even bigger asshole than I thought."

Chad frowned. "It's going to happen again, Zeke. I can feel it."

"Well, Adam always wants what he doesn't have—and more specifically, what Troy has. So, now that he has Gabriella—"

"Would you _stop_ saying that?" Chad snapped, hating the idea of a girl taking his best friend away from him. He paused to compose himself, before continuing. "Adam back at Lava Springs now that Gabriella's there is bad news, dude," he said, regretfully.

"If Troy and her really _are_ 'star-crossed lovers' or whatever, then yes. You may be right."

They spotted Adam once more a little later on, with yet another girl on his arm that he didn't seem to have any real interest in.

Chad, for a moment, just stared at him; stood staring a who he was sure was the only person on earth who could find a reason to dislike, not to mention hate, Troy Alexander Bolton.

—x—X—x—

The first thing Gabriella noticed about the Bolton household was warmth. It was instantly comfortable when she walked through the door after arriving in Troy's beat up truck—that he informed her was 'work in progress.'

"Home sweet home," Troy said, as he held the door open for her.

She smiled at him as she said a small but genuine 'thank you.'

"Mom," he called into the house. "I'm home!"

He turned to her and gave her a small reassuring smile.

"C'mon, Gab. Don't get afraid on me now." he said, quietly, before winking and turning down the hall and into what appeared to be a kitchen.

Gabriella lagged behind, slightly apprehensive to make that move over the threshold that was meeting Troy's mother.

_What if she doesn't like me?_

She heard him talking to a woman—his mother—saying something along the lines of 'I brought Gabriella, I hope that's alright.'

Her mother sounded friendly enough, so she slowly peeped a head through the door. Troy was talking to his mother who was stood at the kitchen counter currently with her back to Gabriella. Troy spotted her loitering at the doorway, so laughed and walked towards her.

"C'here, Gab."

Gabriella slowly watched as Troy's mother turned to look at who her son was talking to.

She inwardly gasped at the women's familiar face—at _Mrs Bolton's _face.

That wasn't Mrs Bolton. It couldn't be.

Gabriella blinked as she realised who Mrs Lucille Bolton was.

Gabriella knew her as Lucille Frank. Her physiotherapist from at least four years ago––back when she used to travel over the border into Albuquerque _just _for physio, every five to six months or so.

The idea seemed ridiculous to Gabriella now, considering she never bothered with exercises at all anymore.

Okay, now even freaky-math-girl Gabriella was confused.

What was going _on _here?

Lucille Frank, her physio, was Troy Bolton's _mom_?

What were the odds of that?

"Hello, Gabriella," she said cheerfully, but Gabriella didn't miss the way she gave her an extra intense look.

"Gab," Troy paused. "This is my mom. Lucille."

"Lucille Frank-Bolton to be precise," she added subtly, and that's when Gabriella understood.

Lucille Frank-Bolton _was_ Lucille Frank.

That was until Lucille had decided to move hospitals and become private, meaning Gabriella couldn't travel to see her. Even if she could though, she couldn't afford the sessions, even with her disability allowance given by the state.

She had been her physiotherapist since the beginning, yet Gabriella had never even known she had another name, or the name of her son.

So Frank must be the first half of her double barrel last name. Made sense, but why have two different names?

Why miss off the 'Bolton'?

Suddenly Gabriella felt more naïve than ever.

Why had she only just found out about this?

"Gab. Are you alright?"

Troy was looking at her, concerned by her distracted manner when she had greeted his mother.

"How are you? Been up to anything interesting during Spring break so far?" Lucille asked, walking round opposite her to sit at the counter.

"I'm... great, thank you. And no, no, nothing interesting. Just Lava Springs. Work. Y'know."

She could feel Troy's gaze burn the side of face, as they were both well aware that she was acting absolutely nothing like herself.

"I heard about the champagne incident."

Gabriella laughed nervously, touching her swollen nose.

"Yeah. It's still pretty black and blue, eh?"

"It'll fade soon enough."

Gabriella smiled.

"Let's hope so."

There was silence for a moment as Troy slipped the jacket he had over his arm over the back of a chair. Gabriella gripped the strap of her handbag nervously.

"Are you guys hungry?" Lucille asked, secretly trying to prevent any unnecessary tension or questions. She could see the confusion in Gabriella's eyes, and she planned to answer her questions, but not today.

"No, thanks, mom." Troy intercepted. "We got burgers on the way home. Gabriella insisted."

Gabriella looked at him, and hit him on the arm hard.

"Liar!"

He laughed loudly as his mother smiled amusingly at the two of them.

"Oh, Troy Bolton!" she conceded, looking at her with a stern motherly gaze. "Gabriella insisted, _my ass_."

They all laughed at his mothers comment, mostly because it was a completely unpredictable thing to say.

"Whatever you say, Mom," she teased.

"Well then, if you need anything just let me know, okay?" said Lucille.

Gabriella nodded meekly with a smile, still very confused at who exactly Lucille Frank-Bolton—or Lucille Frank as Gabriella remembered her—really was.

"Shall we go outside?" Troy asked her, quickly.

Gabriella tried to hide her disappointment, and her slight fear that he might ask her to play sport with him.

Surely, despite his own athletic Mojo, he knew she was the worlds worst sports person?

"Okay." She followed him towards the glass patio doors, but stopped short. "Erm, Troy?"

"Hmm?"

"Where should I put my bag?"

He smiled and chuckled to himself, amused.

"Anywhere. Kitchen counter?"

Gabriella proceeded to place her bag there, not before taking off her shoes and placing them in it.

Troy looked from her sock-clad feet, to her face briefly—causing her blush self-consciously—his expression showing how bemused he felt.

"Before you say anything, I have to do this because my feet get really messed up and achey, especially on days when I stupidly decide to wear totally flat shoes."

They both began to make their way our the doors and onto the patio.

"I also am absolutely shit at sports—all sports actually—so don't for one minute think you've dragged me out here to play on THAT," she carried on, throwing a disgusted and horrified glance towards the basketball court that was right in front on them in the middle of the lawn as she pointed at it.

Troy laughed and nodded. "Duly noted."

There was a slight pause as both took in the sight of the near-dusk lighting and the sound of the cheerful crickets.

"So, ready to climb up to the most amazing treehouse you will ever see?"

Gabriella almost choked on her own saliva.

"Climb up to _what_ now?"

Troy was already walking over the basketball court to the far corner of the garden, where there was an undisturbed green lawn (that eventually lead up to the patio and a barbecue pit) and a huge oak tree. Staring upwards, Gabriella gazed at the wooden tree house that stood in the high branches, the almost non-existent sun shined through the leaves and made patterns on the ground that looked the darkest green almost black by that time in the evening.

"Wow."

Troy looked at her, wondering if he was meant to hear her hushed admiration.

"You weren't kidding about the treehouse, then? she laughed.

"Nope. Me and my dad built it––before he became obsessed with my playing of basketball," he said, before pulling her towards the huge tree trunk, onto which a wooden ladder was nailed.

Troy stood at the bottom of the ladder as Gabriella tried desperately to calm herself.

"Troy." She took a step towards him and inwardly cringed when she almost tripped over herself, crossing her legs in an attempt to keep her balance. She blushed deeper as Troy moved to help her.

"I'm fine. I always do this—I'm—I fall over my own feet—hum—I'm fine, really."

Troy gave her his kindest expression as he bowed down to her like a royal doorman.

She giggled and rolled her eyes as she began to climb the ladder. She had climbed at least four rungs before she heard Troy begin to climb too.

She was very conscious of the fact her butt, that stuck out anyway because of her bad posture, was sticking out not far above Troy Bolton's head.

Holy shit, how did she get herself into these awful situations?

It could be worse! her conscience scolded. At least you're with Troy Bolton, at his house!

"You alright up there? You're not going to fall on me, are you?" she heard Troy call from below.

She rolled her eyes.

"And here I was thinking you had more faith in me than that," she answered sarcastically.

He was still laughing to himself as Gabriella reach the top of the high ladder and gingerly stepped behind the thick rope barrier, waiting for Troy to follow. The view of the house was a pretty one, and as more stars began to emerge as the sun disappeared, part of Gabriella wished that she didn't have to go home.

"Awesome, eh?" Troy said, smiling as he came to stand next to her.

"Color me impressed."

Troy squinted at her before laughing at her choice of words.

"You wanna' know something?"

Gabriella's eyes narrowed.

"Generally, yes."

He took a step toward her, one hand tracing the thick rope fencing.

"I've never met someone who confuses and intrigues me as much as you do."

Gabriella took a deep breath.

"How so?"

"Well," he paused, leading her round the side of the treehouse edge to sit and look at the open sky where spectators from the house couldn't see them. "If I'm totally honest, it's everything about you. You're so... unusual. I..."

Gabriella smirked pessimistically at him.

"Unusual's not the word I would've you used," she said, sarcastically.

_"Gabriella,"_ he groaned at her attitude.

"What?" she asked defensively.

"Don't say that. Why do you put yourself down like that? It's all you ever seem to do."

She looked away from him, feeling hurt.

"Why? Take a wild guess," she said in a sad and distant voice, as she looked everywhere but him, suddenly feeling tears building at the thought of her deepest vulnerabilities.

Troy watched her profile and felt instantly guilty.

Way to go, Bolton. You've upset her. Idiot. Such an idiot.

He sighed as he attempted to find words.

"Please Gabriella, don't take anything I say the wrong way," he said, apologetically. "I always seem to put my foot in my mouth."

Gabriella swallowed before using all the courage she had to look him in the face.

"Same here," she giggled, secretly tearily.

"So when I say you're unusual, I don't mean it at all in a bad way. Really I didn't... You're really cool, Gab."

She gave him another deadpanned look—about to concede with another sarcastic comment—but he stopped her quickly.

"Don't say anything."

She ignored him.

_ "Me, cool?_" She laughed. "Really?"

"Really," agreed Troy, humorously, his voice deep and low.

Wow. He has such a beautiful voice. So deep. So smooth...

She smiled at him, gratefully.

"Well, that's very nice of you. Thank you, Troy."

He squinted, disbelieving, nudging his large shoulder against her smaller one where they sat with their legs over the edge.

"There's no need to thank me so graciously. There's no need to thank me at all, in fact. Thanks to me, this was probably the worst first date ever."

Gabriella whipped her eyes back to his face, surprised.

"Did—" she paused for a moment, but couldn't help herself. "Did you just say 'date'?"

"No," he denied as if it was obvious.

"You said date!" she exclaimed slowly, grinning as she let go of her knees that she had been hugging.

"No, I don't—didn't."

Gabriella laughed. "You so did!"

Their bickering went on a little longer, Gabriella's much more forthcoming than Troy's, as he found he began to run out of excuses.

She laughed to herself.

"Busted!" she said, slapping her palm down on her thigh for effect. "So it turns out you did have alternate intentions after all, Bolton."

Troy rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly, not sure how to cover his slight blush and obvious embarrassment. He rolled his eyes at his tongue wondered the inside of his cheek.

"Guilty as charged, I guess."

Gabriella smiled kindly at him, having had more than enough of seeing him squirm. She liked his bravado.

"Nah. You haven't been charged just yet, Bolton."

He smiled in a much more relaxed manner then, losing the tension.

"Oh? And why's that? Not enough substantial evidence?"

Slowly she got to her feet, and tried not to wince as her knee caps made a cracking clicking noise.

"Jury's still out," she said, but he wasn't really listening now, as he had heard the creaking of her bones, and it intrigued him.

He looked bewildered.

"Sorry. That was me."

_ "What _was you? What _was_ that?"

Gabriella laughed in spite of herself.

"I'm like an old woman; I creak," she said as she leant against the outer wall of the treehouse. He turned in his seat to look at her.

"I guess your knees get some major wear and tear, eh?"

She shrugged dismissively.

"Knees, hips, ankles, back. You name it, it creaks."

He stood up with ease to move next to her.

"I guess I have all that to look forward to."

"As an athlete? Hell yeah."

Troy looked over at her after a few moments silence.

"You want something to eat?"

"How did you know that one burger wouldn't be enough for me?" she teased.

"I had my suspicions."

She laughed.

"Yes. As much as I shouldn't say it - Yes, I'd love some cake if you're having some."

Troy smiled, nodding once.

"I'll be right back."

Once he was off down the ladder and back into the house, Gabriella took in her surroundings as she walked inside the treehouse.

She smiled at the photos of Troy and friends—including Chad—that was pinned up all over the wooden walls. She peered on her tiptops to see a photo of Coach Bolton and Troy building the treehouse itself. He looked around eight.

She touched the photo endearingly as her eyes wondered some more.

As she drifted her fingertips over the photos, she felt something fall from under her fingers, seconds later seeing two photographs fall onto the floor from under the others. She frowned as she picked them up, seeing; a photo of an early teenaged Troy, Chad and Zeke sat on the edge of the treehouse; and another even older photo of Chad, Troy and another boy, all around the ago of ten, playing basketball.

One thing was for sure.

She'd recognise Troy and Chad's smiling faces anywhere.

She frowned in confusion though as her gaze crossed the one face she didn't realise in the first photo: a thin blonde girl with bright blue/green eyes, wearing a blue vest top with the Union Jack flag along it and skinny jeans.

Who could that be?

Was that... _Daisy from England?_

In the second photo, the boy with sandy hair and blue eyes stood beside Troy was a complete mystery to her too.

Troy made his way up the ladder carrying balancing himself and two plates expertly. As he climbed up and walked into the treehouse, he saw Gabriella holding the photos that had sub-consciously hidden, and spoke up.

"I got cake," he said, walking to see what she was looking at.

She quickly went to put the pictures on the wall again.

"Is that Daisy? The one Chad was talking about?" she asked, bravely, pointing at the Union Jack blonde in the first photograph.

Troy looked at the photo distractedly, looking away from her.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's her."

She noticed how he tensed up he became mentioning her, so pursued carefully. She took the plate of chocolate cake and whipped cream and went to sit on a beanbag in the homey setting that she could really get used to. She slowly and stiffly fell back on the large beanbag, only just managing not to fall onto the floor. She smiled to herself as he carried his plate and sat beside her.

"Did she go to East High?"

Troy looked up from his plate.

"Hmm?"

She smiled. "Daisy. Did she go to East High?"

He took a deep breath and turned directly toward her.

"Yes," he said, quietly.

She looked at him curiously.

"Where is she now?"

"She went back to England at least two years ago now."

He paused, deciding to continue.

"She was came here in 8th grade, she was 14—same age as me. Basically—to cut a long story short—she was my first girlfriend."

Gabriella looked over at his face as he looked away for a moment. "Did you really like her? Why did she move away?"

"She had to," he said. "Her dad was in the British RAF. He relocated a lot."

Gabriella nodded understanding, busying herself by eating some of her cake.

She hadn't missed the fact that he hadn't answered her first question.

"Gabriella," he started. "Do you know who Adam Kingston is?"

She thought for a second.

"That god-awful West High football player?"

"Quarterback. Yeah."

"What about him?"

"The boy stood next to me in the second photo you were holding. That's him."

She looked at him, surprised. "I've only ever seen a recent promotional picture of him when my mom had to go into West High territory for work. I didn't recognise him."

"You wouldn't. He's pretty freaky these days. Basketball, much as he wished it, was never his Thing as much as it was mine and Chad's. Turns out he's perfect for football. A total aggressive _douchebag_."

Gabriella agreed. "He's the one everyone on the East Side calls _Adam-the-A-Hole-Kingston,_ right?"

Troy let out a laugh.

"Yeah. I think I started that."

She laughed.

"No _way!_ It's like a past-time! Why do you hate him so much?—if you don't mind me asking."

Troy took another bite of his cake.

"He used to go to East too, with the rest of us. So, when Daisy joined Junior High here on the East Side in 8th grade, we all became friends with her, even him. Soon, I had already told all the guys around me that I liked her, and so they all knew, even at that age, to back off a little."

Gabriella laughed and intervened.

"So, you called _dibs_ on her?"

He rolled his eyes and laughed at himself.

"In effect, yes. We got closer, y'know, and we basically a thing—but for some reason we never really put a label on it. I guess we weren't really sure about it all—being, what,_ fourteen_ years old?" He paused as her scraped his fork along his plate to collect the cake that stuck there. "Basically though, Kingston was already getting big for his boots with his attitude, and previously we'd just all ignored him, thinking he'd grow out of it, but it turned out it only took one pretty girl to push him over the edge."

Gabriella frowned. "What did he do?"

Troy was staring at something far off as her ate the last of his cake.

"First year of high school, he had a party," Troy said, a hard edge to his voice she hadn't heard before. "A huge, lame-ass party that I wasn't even invited to. He invited Daisy and her friends—none of who I liked very much—He even invited Zeke—and Emily! It was just me and Chad that _'accidentally_' got missed off the list, because he knew that if Chad was there it would basically be like having me there."

Gabriella looked at his distant expression and felt bad for bringing up the subject.

"You don't have to tell me—"

Troy turned to her, his eyes more intense than ever, happiness hiding somewhere behind them.

"No," he interrupted, quickly. "It's fine. I... I want to..."

He paused.

"He made a move on her—Daisy. He had one ambition that night, one that had been growing all that time, and she," he stopped, his voice dropping in somewhat disbelief. "She gave it to him."

Gabriella took in a sharp intake of breath at him admission. Daisy had cheated on him with Adam-The-A-Hole.

How far exactly had they gotten?

Man, poor poor Troy.

"And I know what me and her had wasn't perfect," he voice was low, almost a whisper. "But I never thought..." He looked over at Gabriella, clearing his throat.

"Emily was the one who told me. At first I was so angry with her for ruining my ideal situation. I hadn't needed to know anything, but she told me and so I couldn't stay with Daisy anymore... So, yeah. At first I was _so_ mad, so pent up about it that I didn't speak to Emily for weeks, and when I did finally confront Adam, I expected him to deny everything—which would have been the friend thing to do..,"

Gabriella grimaced at the image. "But he didn't," she realised.

Troy laughed bitterly and shook his head.

"Nope. Didn't even bother to deny it. Things got violent then... I'd never hit anyone before, and I don't ever intend to again... I just..."

He sighed heavily, and Gabriella smoothed a hand on his shoulder.

"I get it... And what about her?"

"Daisy?" he asked. "I never spoke to her again... I didn't feel it even deserved an explanation... After a while she gave up trying to get me to listen..."

Gabriella felt his hand trace the vein in her wrist where it lay in her lap.

"It wasn't at all surprised by his actions, to be honest. I just never in a million years imagined she would choose him over me."

He seemed so sad in that moment, that Gabriella felt small and weak, but at the same time, incredibly capable. As his fingers traced her lifelines, Gabriella thought about all he had just told her and could not express how much she admired his honesty. She moved herself closer to him and slowly embraced him.

"You were only fifteen, Troy," she said lowly. "How were you to know that she was actually a lot more..."

"Rough and ready?" Troy suggested, amusingly.

"I was going to say 'Down and Dirty,' but yeah," she smiled kindly. "Troy, you weren't to know she could be like that."

Troy sighed. "But I should have known. I really liked her... I spent so much time with her... I... I should have known."

She stood and opened her arms to him, and he gladly accepted, standing and hugging her to his chest gratefully.

"Thank you," he said into her hair, his voice filled with absolute gratitude.

"Thank you," she answered, loving the feeling of his soft cotton polo-shirt against her cheek.

He was still smiling when they pulled apart.

"Was that why you were so worked up when you found me with Emily earlier? I've seen you be tense with her but—"

"I know, I'm so sorry about that... I don't normally get angry, but... I suppose there have been times when I still blame her for my not being with Daisy because she's the one that broke the news to me... But in reality that's ridiculous, because Daisy cheated on me, so I should glad—and I am... I just... I get worried," he said as he stepped closer to her and slowly took her hands and laced his fingers with hers.

"Worried about what?" she asked, her voice barely audible with nerves, very conscious of the heat of his hands spread through the skin of her fingers.

"Worried that she'll waltz in and..."

"Ruin everything you have all over again?" she guessed in a whisper.

He just looked at her with a tiny "Yeah."

She smiled at him. "Oh, Troy," she cooed, quietly. "I'm sure she never meant to do anything to upset you. She was doing what she thought was right—what was right. Besides," she smiled genuinely. "I would never do anything like that to you."

Troy felt a blush creep up her neck as her smiled at her words.

"Ditto," he nodded, running his thumbs over her knuckles.

Gabriella busied herself with looking around the treehouse, while Troy just watched her.

"Wanna' watch a movie, Montez?"

She frowned. "Here?"

Troy raised his eyebrows at her, smirking.

"Yup'."

She followed him up some tells to a large cabin hole in the wall, and Gabriella grinned at the sight of a pile of plentiful cushions, a comforter, a laptop, and a small window that let in fresh air.

She climbed in and Troy followed, settling into the cushions and setting the laptop down in front of them.

However, they never did put a DVD in.

"Have you ever been kissed, Gabriella?"

Gabriella turned to him, totally taken aback by his question.

"I... I can't lie..." she laughed. "I mean, do I _look _like the kind of girl that gets the guy?" She laughed again. "I have been kissed, once or twice, neither of which I remember because they were so feeble and such a long time ago."

"How long ago?"

Gabriella blushed and looked down at her hands.

"My first was ten years ago," she mumbled.

Troy's face moved towards hers.

"You were_ eight?"_

Gabriella laughed.

"Yeah, I know. Just about... I can hardly believe it either... The second one was when I was like ten or eleven. I barely even remember that... I don't even remember it being a big deal... Which is ridiculous considering if it happened now at seventeen it would be like the biggest deal in the world for me..."

She looked sad, so he smirked at her comically. "A big deal, eh?"

She rolled her eyes.

"What the hell are you thinking?"

His facial expression became a cheeky one. "What would you do... if I kissed you?"

She didn't know what to say.

"I'd... be afraid... of doing something wrong, to be honest."

Troy laughed softly, running two fingers over her brow bone as he looked at her in the dim lighting.

"Would you be offended if I tried?" he murmured.

She shook her head but remained very still, trying to keep her breathing even as her stomach fluttered.

Kiss me, Kiss me.

"Stay still," he whispered. "I'll go slow, I promise."

"Troy," she said louder. "I... I don't know about this. I can't—"

His lips pressed against hers suddenly and she didn't know how to react. His fingers touched her cheek, slowly bringing her out of her shell.

He simply pecked her lips a few times, before leaning backward just a little bit. She could feel his hot breath on her lips, as she tried desperately to think clearly.

"Are you okay?" he whispered as he smoothed her hair.

She swallowed hard and nodded frantically.

"I know you're nervous," he carried on. "I am too." He swallowed as he looked at her nervous expression, and smiled softly. "Here," he murmured. "Take my hand."

He held up his hand and she grabbed it, Troy locking his fingers tightly with hers. "If you want to stop, just squeeze my hand," he told her lowly.

She nodded.

"Will you..." she paused to try and catch her breath. "Will you tell me what you're doing? Otherwise I'll never learn the art of kissing, will I?"

He laughed affectionately.

"Here's me thinking you were the nerd," he joked, making her laugh and hit him on the arm.

"I'm kidding," he smiled. "Of course I'll teach you."

He leant down a gave her a series of pecks on her lips again.

"This is Step 1," he whispered before kissing her again. After pecking her repeatedly, he began kissing her much more slowly, one hand still attached to hers, and the other was clenching the comforter beneath them.

Gabriella felt herself relax as he kissed her for a few seconds before pulling away just a little, and then kissing her slowly again.

"Step 2," he whispered of his actions.

Gabriella's eyes were clenched shut as her breathing at heavier. All she could feel was heat.

Suddenly her skin felt hot and the air felt hot, and Troy's lips and breath were hot. She didn't know if she could take it.

He gently ran his tongue along her lower lip, hinting for her to open her lips and let him in.

But Gabriella had no idea how exactly to do that.

She'd never been kissed properly like this before.

She squeezed his hand hard and he pulled back and looked at her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

She giggled, interrupting him.

"It's not anything you did..." she said, out of breath. "I just... I'm just... Hu... I'm sorry."

Troy, also breathing deeply, took her face in his hands and slowly pressed his lips to her forehead, before nuzzling his nose into it.

"Don't be sorry. There's no rush. We have forever, Brie."

Forever...

Did he really mean that?

"Gabriella. I know there's no excuse for my bluntness, but you make me so happy and nervous at the same time that I'm just going to come out and say it: I like you."

Gabriella laughed once and smiled at him.

"I like you, too... But––"

Troy grimaced. "There it is."

"No, Troy. I really do mean it... It's just... I've never had a boyfriend before, I wouldn't know what to do—"

"Who said anything about being a boyfriend?"

Gabriella felt her heart drop.

He didn't want to be exclusive?

Had she gotten it all wrong?

"What?" she asked, hurt clouding her vision.

Troy suddenly grimaced and laughed.

"Chill. I'm kidding, dork!" he stated, smirking as he smoothed her curls.

She scoffed at his stupidity, and hit him hard, knocking him back into the cushions.

"Who's the dork now, Bolton?"

"Still you," he teased complacently, smiling at her as she smirked down at him. Her cheeks were rosy with heat and excitement and she couldn't knock her smile off her face.

_ But you're my dork, _he thought as he restrained himself from taking her and squeezing her to his chest.

He wished he could, but suddenly he felt like he had to be subtle. He had to wait.

"What time is it?" she asked suddenly.

Troy wriggled where he lay to get his phone out his jean pocket.

"Ten."

Gabriella frowned. "I should be getting home soon."

Troy frowned too. "Let me drive you."

Gabriella shook her head.

"No, it's alright. You've driven us enough for one day. I'll walk."

Troy choked, shocked.

"Are you sure that's the best idea?"

Gabriella suddenly had a hard look on her face.

"Of course it is. It's not that far, you know. I am perfectly capable of walking to my house. I'm not an imbecile," she said harshly, obviously offended by his tone as she moved and climbed out of the cabin space.

"Gabriella—"

"I'm_ fine, _okay?"

He climbed down after her and watched her tie her long curls into a messy bun on top of her head. He couldn't help but notice how her left leg turned completely inwards at the knee, her foot on its side, as her left kneecap leant against the side of her right knee as she stood still in order to keep her balance.

He'd never seen anything like her before.

He watched the way she moved, walking almost completely on her toes and her feet turned inwards.

It wasn't an attractive walk, no, but it just seemed to intrigue him.

Besides, did the way someone walked really matter?

He had some many questions he wished she would let him ask. He knew that sometimes he was too curious for his own good.

Before he had even noticed, she was awkwardly taking the first few steps down the ladder.

"Where are you going?"

She got to the bottom as Troy was following her.

"Home," she said sharply, as she walked through into Troy's kitchen, grabbing her bag, and struggling to pull on her shoes stood up as she kept almost falling over.

He felt a stab in his chest as it tightened. Don't go.

"Gabriella. I'm sorry. You know I didn't mean it like that."

Frustrated that her shoe wouldn't pull on, she huffed and pulled it on harder, gripping the counter with one hand for balance. "Mean it like _what, _Troy?" she asked, testing him.

He looked at the way she struggled, and he wished she'd let him help her, but knew that him helping her do something as trivial as putting on a shoe would do nothing but embarrass her.

"I didn't mean to imply that you couldn't walk home," he said, not bothering to sugar-coat his reply. "I just meant that you should walk home _alone._"

Gabriella smiled at him a little, almost sympathetically.

"I'm not mad," she said factually, walking back up to him, leaving not a metre between them. She looked into his bemused bright blue eyes and couldn't help but feel eighty years old compared to him in that moment. He had so much to learn.

"One of these days you'll learn, Troy Bolton, that there's no use worrying about me. I do enough of that for myself."

She picked up her bag and threw a reassuring smile his way.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" he asked frantically as she turned to leave.

She smiled to herself.

"Of course you will, silly. Lava Springs can't function without us both there to terrorise it."

Troy chuckled once at this as he followed her to the front door.

He just wished she would let him walk her home.

"You _promise _you don't live too far?"

She rolled her eyes slightly.

"I live a mile and a half from here, Troy. Give or take. It'll take, what, twenty minutes? Besides, I like this state. It's warm all the time. No need to worry about the cold."

Troy just looked at her, not quite believing he had heard those words come out her mouth.

This girl was like five different people.

How the hell did that work?

"I'll see you tomorrow, Troy," she said, before opening the door and stepping out into the front yard. "Oh," she said, turning back. "By the way, if my mom asks, you dropped my off at the end of the avenue, okay?"

Troy couldn't help himself, he had to laugh.

This girl was really something.

"Alright. I got it," he said, as he watched her walk the unique way she did down the path and onto the sidewalk, walking away from him into warm open air.

He smiled as he watched her disappear, knowing that whatever had happened today would be the start of something that, he hoped, was for the better.

_"And so it begins," _he muttered with a smile as he walked back inside, replaying the memory of Gabriella hot lips against his over and over again. Closing the front door, he braced himself for the Spanish inquisition he was going to receive from his mother in the morning.

Gabriella walked as straight as she could until she knew Troy couldn't see her anymore, then, since trying to walk as normal as possible caused her muscles to cramp, to gave up and walked clumsily. She pondered the night as she walked, feeling suddenly giddy as the events from the day she'd had hit her all at once.

"He_ kissed_ me," she murmured in wonder as she touched her lips, just to check they hadn't fallen off or something. She grinned to herself and span around repeatedly on the sidewalk until she was dizzy, but she didn't care.

She then found herself laughing and squealing gleefully out loud.

"He kissed me. Troy Bolton kissed me!... And he_ likes_ me..." She smiled. "And he called me a dork," she laughed, somehow the thought made her even cheerier.

Her celebrations were interrupted, however, as her cell phone began to vibrate in her pocket. She quickly pulled it out and felt a wave of excitement hit her at the sight of Taylor McKessie's name.

But then she remembered, she had still to tell her best friend anything of her encounters with the NVP Troy Bolton.

"Hello?"

_"Gabriella Montez,"_ came the stern voice of a pissed Taylor McKessie. _"You have a lot of explaining to do."_


	10. The Nice One

A/N: _HELLO HAPPY PEOPLE!_

_So, just like to say I hope you like this one, and, for the 1000th time, THANK YOU SO MUCH to my best friend and beta reader** LittleMissEmz**, who is always so eager to help me along with this story (especially when her character is involved. LOL.) _

_This is most likely the last chpater for a while, because if I don't do some homework this week I won't ever do it. Then, the week after next, I have to focus on my History Controlled Assessment. :L Basically, even though I CANNOT WAIT for certain chapter to come, I have to focus on some priorities.._

_Oh, and I'm moving house at the beginning of November [:(] , so I may not have a computer for a bit... We'll have to see!_

_LOTS OF LOVE. _

_––STARSWalkBACKWARD xxxx_

_**Disclaimer:** Still own nothing. I wish, but no. _

* * *

><p><strong>This chapter is dedicated to the one, the only, Zac Efron - who is 24 in a few hours.. <strong>

**He is my main inspiration for all I write, because he's such a great, beautiful and generous person (and of course, because he IS Troy Bolton.) **

**HAPPY 24TH BIRTHDAY, to m****y beautiful, _beautiful_ husband - whose gorgeous self, amazing talent, and cute dorky-ness keeps me going. **

**I LOVE YOU, ZAC.**

* * *

><p><strong>Spring (Easter) Break - Day 15 (Monday)<strong>

* * *

><p><em>"You could have left me, on a Friday. Would have loved to at least have the weekend. To go under, and to stay under. To get better, and to stay better. <em>

_But you had to, pick a Monday. Now I gotta go to work and get through five days. And get through it, if I can't do it. No, I can't do it. _

_Tryna' focus - to go unnoticed, but the harder I try I see them looking. I can't do it, no. They see through me. They see through it. _

_There's a heartbreaking chill running through my bones. I've got my clothes but I can barely feel them on. Whatever I do. I'm naked. I'm naked, without you. Can't go out, can't go home, can't go anywhere. I'm walking straight, covered up, but I'm still watching people stare. Now what can I do? I'm naked, I'm naked, without you." _

_—'Naked' - Leona Lewis. _

**The Nice One**

The total contentment of the night before had disappeared by the morning. All Gabriella felt now was anxiety of what was to come. She ran through the events of the night before, over and over, as she lay staring at the off-white ceiling of her bedroom.

He had kissed her.

_Troy __Bolton_ had _kissed_ her.

So why did she feel so on edge, like she had been thrown in the deep end when she had no idea how to swim?

"What the hell do I do now?" she asked herself in a murmur.

She didn't know how long she lay there, thinking and worrying about how to act around Troy at work that day, no amount of time seemed long enough.

_ "God, __oh __god,"_she groaned, pulling her hair and head into her hands. "What the _fuck_ do I do now?"

—x—X—x—

Troy Bolton awoke from a haze of memories and fantasies within his dreams that had been caused by the events of the night before.

Though he was somewhat relieved he had taken the step last night, he also suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety.

Had he done the right thing by dragging Gabriella into his life like this?

Because, truth be told, Troy worried about her.

He worried about people judging her––just like the group of bitchy girls at the mall. He had become increasingly aware as he spent more time with her of the way people looked at her—how they stared at her—as she walked past.

He recalled how, once, he would have done the same.

And that scared him—how much this one girl had changed him already, and how much he had_needed_ that change.

He sat up and rubbed the sleep dust from his eyes, lazily. His anxiety was climbing—which was totally against his character—and he found himself staring at a photo of himself and Chad, together with all the East High 'Wildcats.'

Would they act like he feared when the word got out about his attraction to Gabriella?

Was his attraction obvious?

Even if they exclaimed their outrage to the world—which he didn't doubt they would—he was desperate to show her he would not follow suit.

He prayed he wouldn't do something stupid.

He wouldn't shun her out.

Suddenly he heard his phone ring and vibrate at his bedside.

He picked it up and stared down at it.

_ Chad. _

"Hello?"

_ "'Sup Hoops."_

"What do you want, man?"

Chad laughed tenderly. _"Ouch, __man. __Not __nice." _

Troy laughed once, slight bitterness In his voice.

"Not nice, my _ass_," he said. "What the _hell _were you doing yesterday, Chad? You were being so... _despicable_—I, I can't believe you."

_"Oh,"_Chad realised, regretfully. _"Yeah, __about __that...__Would __you __mind __explain__ing __that __to __me?"_

Troy frowned. "Excuse me?"

_ "Dude, __explain __to __me __why __you __were __out __in __town __with..._her."

_"Her_ name, is Gabriella."

_ "Why the fuck were you with her, man? She stalking you or something? You always were the nice one––too nice to say no."_

Troy's features creased with bewilderment.

"What? _No,_ Chad. No. Just stop."

There was quiet.

_"__What __has __gotten __into __you, __man? __Seriously. __This __is __bullshit! __You__'__re __the __playmaker. __You__'__re __meant __to __be __the __face __of __East __High.__Why __the __fuck __are __you __hanging __out __with __her?__"_

Troy could feel his frustration building.

"Because I _want _to, damn it!" he spat angrily. "You always were so naïve, Chad. Why can't you just accept the fact that I like spending time with her? End of story. It has _nothing _to do with you. It's my life! Quit being my dad and just _support_ me!"

Chad didn't speak for a moment. _"__I__'__m __only __trying __to __show __you __that __you__'__re __making __a __big __mistake.__" _

Troy chuckled bitterly. "No. The mistake was mine, when I let myself think _for __one __minute_ that you'd be a friend––be a _brother__––_and at least _try _to understand."

There was no sound from Chad, which made Troy guess he was either fighting anger or guilt.

"Was there a particular reason you called––_other_ than to try and take my freedom of dating from me?

Chad let out a snide chuckle.

_"Kingston's back. Y'know, just, _FYI."

Troy felt himself grip the phone hard.

_ "He'll most likely be a Lava Springs today. Brace yourself."_

At that moment, Troy was gratefully for Chad's words of warning after they had a disagreement.

"_Bastard,__" _Troy cursed at the thought of his only enemy, as he rubbed a hand over his eyes.

_"__So, __just __rang __to __warn __you.__"_

There was a crackle.

_"__And __Bolton, __if __you_ do _insist __on __pursuing __that __disabled __chick, __bare __in __mind __that__––__knowing __Kingston__––__whatever __you __want__––__no __matter __how __damaged __it __is__––__he __will __most __definitely __want __it __too.__"_

"Chad. Thanks," he said, and he could almost feel his friend relax at his calm, quiet, friendly words.

"But, _just, __y__'__know, __FYI,__"_ he mimicked, sternly. "Gabriella is _not _just some 'disabled chick,'" he ground out through his teeth, letting his anger show again.

"And Chad. She is _most definitely. Not. Damaged." _

Troy slammed his finger down on the end call button as he tried to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling as his anger, frustration and protection for Gabriella was ready to peak.

Since when had it gotten this bad?  
>Troy was still holding the phone, concentrating on his breathing and thoughts, long after Chad had gone.<p>

Chad's last words, though sincere and non-threatening as they were, had imprinted themselves into his mind.

He felt his frown deepening.

He had been planning to make sure Gabriella knew his true intentions today.

But now, everything was different.

Now, he couldn't risk Kingston seeing them close at Lava Springs.

He couldn't give him the opportunity to start up one of his sick mind games.

Not on Gabriella.

No way.

Troy stood and began to dress for the day, feeling a sudden weight on his chest, shoulders, and mind.

He tried to return to his normal, calm self as four words circled his brain.

_No. Way. in. Hell. _

—x—X—x—

Gabriella stared into the mirror of the passenger seat in their Chrysler Grand Voyager as she tried to adjust her contact lens.

"Damn it, mom. I told you. He's just a friend."

Maria Montez didn't even try to look convinced. "Okay, okay, I believe you..." She paused as she watched her daughter relax beside her. "He is kinda' cute, though, don't you think?"

Gabriella blushed and her ears burned. "I... wouldn't disagree."

Both Irish-Fillipino-Portrquese Latinas laughed then, knowing the feeling was, in fact, mutual.

"He has beautiful blue eyes, and a smile you'd know anywhere. He's a lovely boy," said Maria as they approached and pulled up outside the back of Lava Springs.

Gabriella momentarily was distracted from her daily nerves at the mention of Troy. "Not just that," she said, distractedly. "He has a heart you'd know anywhere too."

Gabriella rushed through the door of the kitchen, trying to calm the fear she felt when Troy Bolton was nowhere to be seen. Clocking herself in quickly, she grabbed her black apron and tying it around her middle. Her sky blue blouse felt crisp, her black skirt not too tight, her shoes comfortable, and her tights brand new, but somehow something didn't feel right.

Where was Troy when she needed him?

Wait, _what? _She needed him? Since when?

Gabriella busied herself bantering with Emily, who was busy cooking breakfast for guests. No sooner had she distracted herself, when someone cleared their throat behind her. She turned quickly, expecting Troy, only to find an unexpected, unwanted surprise, and felt her stomach drop.

Adam Kingston.

"Do I know you?" he asked, his voice like liquid heat.

He had bright greeny-blue eyes, and light, sandy flicking mass of hair.

He wasn't bad looking at all really.

Shame he was such an ass.

_What __a __waste, _she thought.

"No," she said, curtly. "No. You don't."

He flicked his hair, and rose his eyebrows.

"I'm Adam. Kingston. Best friend of the Evans', who own this place."

Gabriella heard Emily snort beside her, and she resisted the urge to follow suit.

"Oh," Emily said, sarcastically. "So, that's why you're _still_ working as a waiter... Hmm. Makes sense."

Gabriella burst out with laughter at Emily's clever comment, but soon silenced at the look Adam was giving her. He glared at Emily—who he had evidently known as long as he had known Troy—but he didn't look at Gabriella the same way.

_This __is __weird. _

As per usual, Gabriella struggled to even achieve eye contact—she wouldn't have even if she could however––not when she knew what he was like.

He didn't move to leave, so Gabriella looked at him, confused.

"Don't you have work to do?" she asked, not caring if it sounded rude.

He folded his strong arms over his chest. "Don't you?" he asked, knowingly. The smirk on his face made her wish she had the guts to hit him.

When she didn't answer him, he neared her even more, and she felt a lump in her throat.

"What's your name, sweetie?"

Gabriella looked at him skeptically.

"Most definitely _not_sweetie."

Her words seemed to boast his egotistical levels even higher, making her exceedingly frustrated.

Paul was pulling Emily away to help him with cooking as he caught her attention.

"Gabriella! Would you like to help me do some'a this until your shift starts?" he called, and she knew that by 'until your shift starts,' he really meant 'until Troy gets here.' She sighed inwardly.

Adam smirked again.

"So, you're Gabriella."

She said nothing, praying he would let her past.

_"Gabriella,"_ he tested. "Hmm... Has a lovely ring to it. I could get used to that one."

Gabriella wanted to laugh in his face, so she did.

"Too bad you won't ever get too then, eh?"

"Yeah," Adam said, smugly. "I guess you could say that."

She looked to the door again, praying to see a particular familiar presence enter the room. A moment later, her prayer was finally answered, as the dark haired, tanned, serene Troy Bolton glided in and got out his key.

He looked up at her a moment later, and Gabriella could swear she saw him grimace at the sight of who was occupying her time.

"Excuse me," she said, curtly again, before rounding him completely and walking straight to Troy, who suddenly looked very relieved.

Troy smirked a little at the very obvious look of surprise on Kingston's face when he witnessed Gabriella's walk for the first time.

_ Priceless, _he thought.

"Hi, Troy," Gabriella said, suddenly cheery.

Troy looked at her smiling face a few metres away, and couldn't help but smile equally back at her, despite the weight and dread he was feeling.

"Hello." He said, simply. "How are you?"

Gabriella's heart jolted at his impersonal tone. _Ouch._

"I'm... fine, thank you, Bolton."

"You survived the walk home I see," he said, teasingly, before his expression blanked again.

"Yes, _obviously,_" she said sarcastically, trying desperately to awake the playful Troy she had experienced the night before. He had still to succeed. "Even though I have no idea what you're on about, because I _didn't _walk home. You _drove_ me, _remember?" _she hinted.

Troy gave her an amused expression, but not much more. "Yeah. Sure I did. Total gentleman that I am."

Before Gabriella could speak again, Adam jumped in.

"Well, I wouldn't go that far, Bolton."

Troy threw him an icy look for joining in where he wasn't wanted.

"I mean, aren't gentlemen meant to be able to _hold__down_ their women?"

Troy's jaw set as he resisted the urge to grind his teeth.

"Back off, Kingston."

Adam laughed, basking in the knowledge that the whole kitchen was just about watching their every move.

_"Always_ the nice one," Adam sniped quietly.

_Again __with __the __nice! _Troy's mind growled. _Why __is __nice __such __a __bad __thing?_

Gabriella _likes __nice. _

"I'm not doing this with you again, Kingston. Not now, not ever. Just back off, man."

Gabriella admired Troy's serenity as he kept a happy, non-cocky, non-threatening Bolton smile on his face.

"Bolton," one of the other waiters called. "You ready?"

Troy tied his apron around his middle, before turning to Gabriella with a reassuring smile. "Yup," he called, grabbing a tray and walking through to the restaurant entrance. Gabriella followed him, but once they reached the door he took a step sideways and pushed it open for her. "Ladies first," he said flatly.

Gabriella smiled at him, despite her confusion at his distant attitude, inwardly jittery after the way the day had begun.

Troy's eyes followed her as she walked in front of him. Once they went separate directions however, Troy focused all his attention on trying to keep Gabriella away from Adam Kingston, and visa versa.

It was lunch when everything changed.

It turned 1:30 and Gabriella felt uneasy, just as she had done even _before_ her run-in with Kingston that morning. She sat with her sandwich––made by Emily––in the kitchen, feeling lost. Troy hadn't spoken to her since he arrived. He had virtually blanked her whenever she tried to chat with him, and being as unexperienced as she was, she had no idea how to handle it.

_Urgh, __boys __are __so __confusing!_

Emily came and literally plonked herself down next to Gabriella, looking defeated.

"Seriously, right now I just want Troy to punch that asshole and get it over with."

Gabriella frowned.

"I don't really like the idea of Troy getting angry."

She laughed. "Bitch, you shouldn't. It's fucking _scary. _Scary as _shit._"

Gabriella laughed at her brash attitude that only she could ever pull off. She sat for a second and sighed. "Why should he punch him, exactly?"

Emily looked at her, ludicrously. "Well, why _shouldn__'__t _he? I mean, the guy's a douche! You were there when he tried to hit on you this morning, and I trust you also know about his past _misbehaviours_."

Gabriella rolled her eyes. "Evidently."

Emily sighed. "All I'm saying is, he deserves it, okay?"

When Gabriella said nothing, Emily continued.

"How much do you know?" she asked. Gabriella, not wanting to say something wrong, settled with a simple answer.

"That Kingston stole Troy's first girlfriend, and that he's afraid it might happen again."

"He _told _you that?"

Gabriella let out a slight scoff. "No––Well––the first part, yes. I guessed the second part. I mean, it's not hard to guess that's what scares him."

"It's, like, the _only _thing that scares him, just about," Emily said humorously as she bit into her own sandwich. "Where is he anyway?"

Gabriella shrugged, causing Emily to frowned, bemused.

"You don't know? But he's, like, obsessed with you!"

Gabriella looked at her ludicrously, her head telling her that Emily was being ridiculous. "_What? _Troy Bolton is _not _obsessed with me. You're crazy."

"Dude, _yes __he __is. _I mean, not in a creepy way or anything, but... y'know what I mean."

Gabriella shook her head, dismissively. "Again––You're crazy."

Emily turned to her, her dark blue eyes, kind. "Gabi... Have you ever noticed how Troy is kinda a... 'one scene, one character' kinda' guy?"

Gabriella frowned. "I have _no __idea _what that means."

"It means, he's... a different with each person he meets. I mean, to one person he might be _'__Troy: __the __basketball __guy,__'_ to another he may just be..._ '__Troy: __the __gorgeous __waiter__' _or '_Troy: __Son/Nephew__'... _and he just... plays on that_.__" _She paused_._"Do you know how I know he really likes you?"

Gabriella waited a moment to respond, afraid someone might be listening into their conversation. "No..."

"I can tell because, with you, he's just _Troy._No basketball, no chores, no... _childhood __memories_," she laughed. "There's nothing to get in the way, you know? He's just... Troy."

Gabriella thought about this, and for a moment, she let herself just about believe it. "I'd like to think you were right," she said.

"I am. I always am," she said, egotistically, batting her eyelashes.

Gabriella laughed with a 'whatever' before turning back to her sandwiches, absorbing the new information she had been told as her organised mind began to sort and pick at it.

She suddenly realised.

_Where __the __hell _was _Troy __anyway?_

––x––X––x––

Troy made his way through the back of the restaurant, clearing up, desperately trying to avoid having to go to lunch and see Gabriella.

He honestly had no idea what to do around her when Kingston was around, and he'd rather not give it a try at all. However, temptation became too much for him, as he crept round the corner and watched Gabriella interact with the other waitresses while he leant against the wall.

"She's interesting, isn't she? The disabled one."

Troy ground his teeth––a tell he wished he could get rid of––and balled his fists at the sound of _that _voice close behind him.

"Kingston. What part of _back __off _don't you understand?"

Kingston didn't answer, he just smirked and watched Gabriella just as Troy had done a few moments before. "Calm down, Bolton. You get wound up to easily. For once in your life, forget the girl and give up while you're still ahead."

Troy's jaw locked. "Excuse me?"

Kingston just smiled. "Give up the girl, Bolton. We both know you have always had the most tragic taste in girls––"

"_You_ also dated one of my girlfriends too, you know."

"_Only _one. I mean, you _really_ don't know how to up 'em. And there's a reason that _that_ hasn't happened _since_, Bolton..." He neared Troy a little, who stood his ground. "I _could _say because they were all munters, but no. The real reason is because, there haven't _been _anymore girlfriends, have there Troy?"

Troy stiffened at the mention of his first name.

"Get out of my face."

He indicated to Gabriella, complacently. "Oh don't worry. I plan on getting into _hers_ instead."

Troy neared Adam this time.

"If you fucking _dare..._"

"Bolton, be _reasonable. _You're not even _dating _her. She's any man's game."

Troy could feel himself boiling over.

"_No,_" he growled, lowly. "Gabriella is _not _any man's _game._She's _no __one__'__s _game. Don't you dare––"

"Dare, _what_, Bolton? Dare _fuck_ her, like I did your first and _only _girlfriend?"

Troy neared his face, Adam's mere three more inches of height not intimidating him at all.

"I don't want any of this, _Kingston. _I left Daisy behind the day I stopped talking to you. Neither of you mean _anything_ to me. I am _so _over that night that I can't even be bothered to hit you... _But,_ I won't hesitate to _pummel _you if you don't listen to me when I say..." He paused as he became inches from Kingston's face. _"__Leave. __Gabriella. __Alone.__"_

For a moment, Kingston was silent as he sized up the threat. After a few moments, he let out a chuckle, but began to move, signifying his temporary dismissal. "Bolton. She's spazticated, fat and ugly, and she can't even walk in a straight line. You _actually _think I'd _really _sleep with a _freak _like that?" Kingston smirked as he chuckled. He past Troy and moved into the bright light of the kitchen, in Gabriella's general direction. "She probably doesn't even know how to _put __out _anyway... But, I suppose it would be an interesting _experiment..._"

Troy watched as Kingston neared the table of waitresses––including Gabriella––and he panicked. He walked forward into the kitchen and grabbed Kingston by the arm.

"You know, on second thought," he said, before he swung his arm, his fist colliding with Kingston's nose. The noise lead to plenty of commotion, as Kingston staggered before sending him death glares and charging at him.

They fought as Gabriella watched on in horror. _"__Troy!__"_ she exclaimed in horror as he shoved Kingston backward into a table. His more nimble basketball-player's body obviously giving him the advantage of agility and speed. She watched, cringing and grimacing as the two males kept throwing punches. "Emily," she urged._ "__Do __something!__"_

Already on it, Paul and PJ began to help Emily haul Troy apart from Kingston, which––Gabriella observed––was a bad move. Troy tried desperately to hurl one last punch, throwing out his fist––only for it to hit Emily instead.

As at that moment, Mr Fulton walked into the kitchen, alarmed by the noise, where he saw two waiters holding Troy back from Kingston who was against the wall on the other side of the room, and Emily cradling her eye on the floor.

They all knew, by the look on Fulton's face, and by his track record, _who _Mr Fulton was going to blame.

"_Bolton,_" he exclaimed. "Get some ice, then get in my office, _now!_" He went to walk out, then turned back. "And make sure to go the back way as not to alarm the guests!"

Gabriella rushed to Troy as soon as Fulton had left. His lip and eyebrow were split and bleeding, and his cheek and eyes were already discoloured.

"Oh, Troy," she sub-consciously cooed as she helped him sit down on a nearby chair. She noticed Kingston had already been helped up and taken outside by one of the smug golf pros. She looked at his cheek, already blue, and his eye, already black, and grimaced.

"Nice going, douchebag!" Emily exclaimed at she sat beside him, a bag of peas pressed to her eye. "You hit _me._"

Troy grimaced, then winced. "Andy, I'm _so _sorry. I didn't mean––"

Emily rolled her good eye, still managing to be herself through the pain. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Don't think for one minute, just because you finally had the guts to hit Kingston again, that I forgive you. They're not getting away with this that easily. You're going to have to _beg, _Bolton."

Troy laughed, but then regretted it, as pain rippled through his side.

"_Ouch,_" he breathed, his voice almost a squark.

Gabriella accepted the ice packs from Paul's offering hands, and quickly unbuttoned Troy's blue dress shirt, pressing it against his linen body-warmer clad ribs. Troy took the other and pressed it to his cheek.

"_Dude,_" exclaimed Paul as he crouched beside him. "That _rocked._Did you _see _his face? Oh _man! _Just _wait _till Danforth and Baylor hears about this!"

Troy kept his eyes shut as pain ripped through him, and partly because he was trying to hide the shame he was feeling. He wasn't a violent person, not at all. But now, what on _earth _would Gabriella think of him?

_It __doesn__'__t __matter __what __she __thinks __of __me, _his mind corrected. _Because __I __can__'__t __let __myself __too __close __to __her __again. __I __can__'__t __drag __her __into __this; __this __life __of __cruel __judgements __and __discriminations._

He cringed through the pain of his body, and his thoughts.

No. He wouldn't do it.

"Why the hell did I ever think this was a good idea?" he groaned as more staff began to vacate the kitchen and get back to work.

Gabriella smiled where she knelt in front of him, completely oblivious that he had forgotten she was even there. "Because you're an idiot?"

Troy opened his eyes and laughed, again, regretting it as he winced a second later. He then mentally kicked himself for relaxing back into his usual kind character.

"I'm sorry," he said, suddenly, before he could stop himself.

Gabriella looked to see Emily had gone to the other side of the kitchen to talk to the other chefs, and then turned back to him.

"Why are you sorry?"

Troy took in a sharp breath. "If I was rude to you today...––Well, no, that's wrong. I _was _rude to you today."

Gabriella sat up on her knees, closing the gap between them, as she applied more pressure to his ribs. She said nothing.

"I––"

"I get it, Troy." He looked bemused. "I get that you aren't sure what you want from me yet. I get that," she deadpanned, trying to hide her confusion.

Troy frowned. "I don't want anything _from_ you."

Gabriella looked into his face, hurt. "Then what are you doing?"

Troy didn't quite know to what she was referring to, and so, at first, wasn't sure how to answer.

He thought about that morning and how––before that phone call with Chad––he had been so sure of what the day would bring. "I don't know," he said simply. "I have no idea."

Suddenly a voice was yelling as it neared, and a second later Troy saw through his blurry eyes, his mother, in panic mode.

"Troy Alexander Bolton!" she scolded as she came to stand in front of him.

"Mom," he started. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I _doing_ here? Well, I could ask you the same question!"

Troy cringed at her loud, unforgiving voice.

_Oh __boy._

"I'm on my way to visit a friend, only to receive a phone call from Mr Fulton saying that you started a _fight _today in the middle of a fully-working, _very __expensive, _country club kitchen! Oh, and not _only _that, but the fight was with the _same _person you got suspended from school for fighting with two years ago! _Honestly. _I know you two don't like each other, but there really is no excuse!"

Troy felt Gabriella move from holding the ice pack to his ribs, and he willed her silently to return. He tried to focus on his mother, but his thoughts kept returning to the night he had had the chance to tell his parents all about Adam and Daisy––but he hadn't.

"Now, this is getting ridiculous. You are coming home _right __now,_and are grounded until further notice. That means, no basketball, no truck, _nothing._ Mr Fulton informs me you have also been suspended from work at this establishment."

Troy looked up at his mother, aghast. "_What? _No _basketball, _no truck, _and _no work? I'll go insane!"

His mother was in the process of collecting his things and helping him up, suddenly noticing Gabriella, and the way her son kept looking at her when she wasn't looking.

"Oh, and no visitors."

Troy groaned, and he pushed himself to a standing position and followed his mother to the door silently as she kept ranting, leaving a puzzled and worried Gabriella behind.

_Shit, _he cursed, inwardly, as realisation hit him. "What about Adam? Please tell me he's being punished too."

Lucille Bolton spoke curtly as she helped him into the car. "I can't speak for his parents. It's up to them how they punish him."

Troy's jaw dropped. "But they _don__'__t_ punish him for _anything!_ They never have! You know that!"

Mrs Bolton said nothing as she climbed into the front seat.

"Mom. _Please _tell me Kingston got suspended too."

Mrs Bolton started the car, and pulled out. "You know the rules, Troy. The person who starts the fight takes the brunt of the charges."

Troy felt his chest constrict at this news. Not _only _would walking free make Kingston smugger than ever, but it would _also _mean something else very frightening.

Gabriella was going to be at work with him, alone.

"Mom, what about Gabriella?"

Mrs Bolton frowned. "What about her?"

"She's on her own," he murmured, defeated.

"Of course she's not on her own! There are plenty of other waiters and waitresses."

"But Mom, Emily got hurt, which means _she _most likely won't be at work either this week. Which means, Gabriella won't have any friends with her. Mom _please_––"

"Troy Bolton. Gabriella may be slightly more shy and fragile than the rest of us, but she is not made of glass! You are _not _and cannot have your suspension lifted. End of discussion."

Troy sagged in his seat, ignoring the pain that buzzed in his side, and throbbed in his face.

_Gabriella. Please don't hate me for being callous with you today. _Please _don't hate me. __I was just trying to protect you, but now I've left you even more vulnerable than ever. __This is all my fault. __Oh Gabriella, why the hell can't I be smart like you? You would _never _be this stupid. Look what I did. _

See_ Brie, I _always_ put my foot in my mouth. I told you so in the treehouse, but I bet just thought I was lying and so trusted me to look after you..._

He thought of Kingston and his smug grinning face, and quickly then found himself thinking of sweet, innocent Gabriella. He felt like he was going to be sick.

_I'm so sorry, Gabriella. Brie. I'm so sorry. _


	11. Silence is The Loudest Noise of All

A/N: _Welcome, lovelies. So, I'm moving house this week, so this **may** be my last chance to upload for a while–– that is if my iMac isn't put back together quickly!  
><em>_May I recommend that you re-read Chapter 6 sometime either after or before this chapter. I did a few days ago and realised it explains a lot and helps with the understanding of my last chapter (Chapter 10.) You don't have to, but it's amazing how after a while of not reading something, you realise a lot more that you didn't pick up on before. It basically helps you as a reader––and me as an author––remember and understand Troy's character a bit more._

_As I say - just a suggestion._

_I also thought I'd let you know I changed my quadruple space symbol from '––x––X––x––' to ** '༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺ '**__The letters stand for Tomorrow Would Never Change. Pretty cool, eh? :)_

_In other news, I went to see Bruno Mars last Tuesday._

_He was **A-MAZ-ING**. Never seen anything so amazing in my life._

_LOL. So, back to the point: the story. __ANYWAY - I hope you like this one. __Have a good week! **PLEASE REVIEW OR I CAN'T MAKE ANYTHING ANY BETTER! **_

_**THANK YOU :)**_

_––STARSWalkBACKWARD xxxxxx_

_**P.S.** The quotes and/or lyrics I put before some chapters are worth taking in, btw. _

_If they're lyrics, I suggest (you don't have to!) you listen to the song, as it may help with the mood and theme of the chapter. _

_(As you can tell, I'm all about the readers experience. LOL._

_ ANYWAY, I'll go now. PEACE XD _

* * *

><p><strong>THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO BRUNO MARS.<strong>

**FOREVER THE ONE I HOLD UP MY HEART UP FOR.**

* * *

><p><strong>Spring (Easter) Break – Day 18-19 (ThursdayFriday)**

* * *

><p><em>If you ever leave me baby,<em>  
><em>Leave some morphine at my door<em>  
><em>'Cause it would take a whole lot of medication<em>  
><em>To realize what we used to have,<em>  
><em>We don't have it anymore.<em>

_There's no religion that could save me_  
><em>No matter how long my knees are on the floor<em>  
><em>So keep in mind all the sacrifices I'm makin'<em>  
><em>Will keep you by my side<em>  
><em>Will keep you from walkin' out the door.<em>

_I'll never be your mother's favorite_  
><em>Your dad can't even look me in the eye<em>  
><em>Oooh if I was in their shoes, I'd be doing the same thing<em>  
><em>Sayin 'there goes my little boy,<em>  
><em>Walkin' with that troublesome girl.'<em>

_Cause there'll be no sunlight_  
><em>If I lose you, baby<em>  
><em>There'll be no clear skies<em>  
><em>If I lose you, baby<em>  
><em>Just like the clouds<em>  
><em>My eyes will do the same, if you walk away<em>  
><em>Everyday it will rain, rain, rain...<em>

_––'It Will Rain' – Bruno Mars_

**Silence is the Loudest Noise of All**

After the day of the fight, all Gabriella felt was quiet.

Lonely quiet.

An idea gnawed at her, itched, and no matter how hard she tried, it grew and bred itself in the depths of her mind. A most real, and terrifying idea, that nagged her. The idea that she had been right about trusting guys all along; right about not trusting anyone.

Emily hadn't come to work for the last few days, because of her nose. Troy was on suspension, leaving Gabriella very much alone. She had been relieved that Kingston had been sent home after the fight to recover, meaning she could breathe easy for a while longer...

But that was three days ago now.

That had been Monday.

Today was Thursday.

Chance was that Adam would be back at work within the next few days...

But, that didn't matter, because she would be ready.

Now, after arriving home in time for dinner, Gabriella lay staring at Troy Bolton's Facebook page on her laptop—again. She felt the familiar flutter of hope tugging deep in her stomach while looking at his delicious profile photo, it itself triggered by the memories of all the feelings he had made her endure. She tried desperately to stamp the fluttering down and silence it.

Because, no matter how much she yearned, she couldn't do anything about it––any of it.

Gabriella clicked into her own profile page, noticing Troy had, in fact, liked her profile photo, as well as three photos Taylor McKessie had tagged her in.

Why the _hell_ had he done that?

There was a naïve side of her wanted to feel happy about it all; the trivial Facebook likes; the compliments; the sweetness; and the kiss. But then the other side of her wanted to slap herself silly, because she had tried to tell herself not to get involved all along.

She had tried,

And she hadn't listened.

_Stupid. So stupid. _

She let her head drop back into her pillows as she sighed.

Troy still hadn't spoken to her properly since their kiss on Sunday night, and she had no idea what to do about it...

God, she hated boys.

"I knew it," she whispered harshly to herself. "I always say too much... I'm so stupid! I always say the wrong thing... My first kiss... First everything and I ruined it... Stupid!"

Her mind reeled as she realise who's words she's just mirrored.

_I always put my foot in my mouth. _

Her heart somewhat ached as she stared at his photograph some more. Deep down she felt that maybe, just maybe, if she stared at it long enough, she would be lucky and he would come online... But then, even if he was online, what could she say to him?

_Oh, hey __Troy! Not being a stalker or anything, but I was wondering why you haven't spoken to me in a few days..._

She shook her head.

No. The real answer was the usual: she could say nothing.

Gabriella glanced at her phone, hoping for a text message from Troy, Emily, Taylor, or Paul even... But no, nothing.

She tried to swallow her disappointment and loneliness, but they didn't fade. She blamed herself—as that was all she ever did—but deep down she had no idea why, because she couldn't ever remember doing anything wrong. She may not have been as sharp, or as intriguing... But she couldn't think of anything that would cause this to suddenly happen...

She felt a huge sense of hopelessness as she sat still, thinking, because, in spite of everything being new to her, she had not gone that wrong; she hadn't made a drastic mistake or anything... She hadn't put her foot in it, and they had seemed to be getting along fine... Better than fine.

It sickened her how she had tried so hard—had been so _careful_—not to get too carried away, or say too much...

Yet this had still happened... again.

She had been shunned off the list and forgotten... Just some passing moment of usual thought... A needle in a haystack.

She thought of Troy then, and what he might be doing right in the moment. She wondered if he had thought of her at all... But then again, why would he? After all, she was always the one who fell for those who never fell for her.

For a moment she considered that this couldn't be the case, because, if she wasn't mistaken, he did like her at least a little at some stage... Otherwise, he wouldn't have kissed her... Or would he?

Her head began to hurt as she lay still, trying to short her many theories into order, with no prevail.

So far no amount of A+ grades was helping her is figuring any of this out...

If only school did a class on the young male psychology...

She sighed as she grabbed her red floral teddy bear and hugged it to her chest under the blankets.

"I miss him," she whispered to no one but herself as she turned off her laptop and lay in the dark. "How can I miss someone I barely know? Who barely knows me?" He had made her feel so high, and made her feel like he was never going to stop—like he could make her feel that way forever... But now, just like all the other boys she had ever liked... He had dropped her.

"Oh... Why did I _do?"_ she whispered helplessly to her off-white ceiling, wondering how she had ever let herself believe that this time would be any different.

** ༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺ **

She stood and took a breath outside the kitchen on Friday morning. With still no word from Emily, Troy or anyone else, Gabriella felt increasingly hesitant about entering and bumping into whatever, or whoever, she may face there.

She had a strict pep talk with herself, preparing her thoughts orderly.

Walk into kitchen.

Clock in.

Find—

"Gab_ster!" _

She huffed with relief as she recognised that British accent.

"Hey, Paul."

"'Alright?" He squeaked in his false camp voice.

His brown eyes lit up like usual as he grinned at her. His short dark blond hair freshly cut.

"C'mon. Show mus' go on an' all that," he piped comically, the 'o' in 'show' sounding like 'shohw'

He literally span into the kitchen, and she couldn't help but laugh at his general camp-ness.

"So, Gab_sterrr,"_ his slight north-east London dialect music to her ears. She loved people from England. She always had since she lived there with her mother's job when she was younger. "I've go' one word of advise for ya Missey: staay awaay from the twinkle-douche."

"Paul—" she said, hopelessly as she laughed. "That's five words."

"Yeh', well, I can't count, so..."

She smiled sideways at his joke of self pity. "Pauly, just shut up."

He hit himself on the head. "On it."

She laughed at him kindly, as she turned to clock in. He began chatting away in his cottony glory, but suddenly he was up close to her, moving her away from the front of the kitchen.

"Incomin'! Incoming!" he rasped quietly.

A moment later she felt the atmosphere change in the room and she knew Adam must have arrived.

_Great. _

She drummed her fingers against the countertop for a moment, before trying desperately to compose herself.

_Dread. Verb. To anticipate with great apprehension or fear. _

"Gabriella."

Paul stepped into place beside her as Adam neared them. He gave her a smile Paul-type smirk as they tied their aprons on.

Suddenly, Mr Fulton entered in his usual manner.

"Puckett," he said sternly. "With me." He pointed behind him, towards the door. When no one moved, he added, _"Now."_

Paul made a face that portrayed fear, but his eyes were laughing. "Look Mister F, sir, I'm sorry'," he said dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. "Whatevah it is, it was me. Jus' lock me up." Everyone laughed as he offered his wrists to Mr Fulton, who was looking more and more agitated.

_"Puckett,"_ he exclaimed impatiently.

Paul sighed melodramatically and rolled her eyes. "I knouw, I knouw. I'm comin'. Jeesus."

Gabriella wanted to exclaim and beg him not to leave, but she knew he had no choice. She looked at him, panicked, but he just flashed her a classic Paul grin, before stating he 'would be back' in his best terminator voice. She gave him a weak smile back, forgetting her anxieties for a moment as she let herself become partial to Paul's very kind, very sweet, very cottony ways.

God, she loved Londoners.

Especially surreally _crazy _ones.

She watched him leave, and stood for a moment in silence.

Though, the silence didn't last long.

"Miss Montez," a voice purred in her ear.

She tensed. "Go away, Kingston."

He laughed beside her, and she knew that replying had not been a good idea.

He didn't move, even when she turned to find her notepad and pen, so she rolled her eyes and turned to him in anger. Though, she never met his eyes, because the gleam there scared her.

"Don't you have a poor, unfortunate beautiful waitress to follow around, or flirt with, or whatever?"

laughed heartily, a laugh that was much like Troy's, but, unlike Troy, Kingston's eyes were icy and cold.

"I'm looking at her."

Oh, boy. You dropped yourself in that one.

She became agitated that he wouldn't leave her side, so turned to him full-pelt. "Leave me alone, for fucks sake!" she yelled, her frustration getting the better of her, before stalking off to find things to clear away in the restaurant.

Adam watched her walk away in the only she could, noticing how the arch or her lower back was greater than an ordinary person's, making my butt stick out more. It always wiggled from side to side as her hips moved abnormally with her walking on her tops. He began to realize he had been wrong when he had be antagonizing Bolton. Maybe he wouldn't mind getting a piece of the disabled chick after all…

** ༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺ **

She felt it all day.

He was watching her.

She didn't physically see it, but she felt it, and it was driving her insane.

She would trade this feeling for a thousand days in school with stupid jeering bitches and their boyfriends. Any day.

At lunch, she was even more on edge to see Kingston was no where to be seen.

And neither was Paul.

"Have you seen Paul anywhere?" she asked one of the stunning waitresses, Lacy, who had perfect skin, a kind personality, bleach blonde curly hair and warm, lined, chocolate eyes. She was Gabriella's secret ideal.

"Mr Fulton always has it in for him. He's on manager area cleaning duty, apparently."

Gabriella felt herself deflate. If Paul was on manager area (meaning Mr Fulton area) cleaning duty, then she wouldn't be able to see him. Not only was it on the other side of the club, but no staff were allowed to even look inside without a reason or permission.

She thanked Lacy, before walking to the back corner of the kitchen and sitting at an alcove table. She pulled out soggy sandwiches her mother had made and sighed.

No decent sandwiches without Emily.

No banter, laughs or hugs without Paul.

No loving glances or kind words without Troy.

This place just wasn't the same without them.

She ended up throwing half her sandwich in the garbage, before rounding the back of the building to clear the rest of the kitchens rubbish into the dumpster.

And that's when she saw him.

Round the corner from the line of dumpsters was an alcove in the wall, and few metres wide, and at least three metres deep. She had steered clear of it before now, as she had heard stories about couples using it as a regular spot to make out in the shadows.

She couldn't imagine what she'd do if she happened to walk in on anything like that.

But now, she felt nothing but fear at the sight of Adam Kingston stood there, looking straight at her. He was only metres from her, and she tried to back away, but he was faster. He had cornered her into the shadows of the hidden alcove within seconds.

"I was wondering when you would show up," he husked.

She tried to push him away, but his strength overrode hers.

"Let me go," she said, bravely, and too politely.

He just laughed and smiled, before closing the gap between them even more.

"I said, let me go. C'mon Kingston. You don't want to end up starting another fight," she baited.

He smirked. "I didn't start that fight."

"I don't believe you. I mean, look what you did to Troy!"

"Yes, but look what he did to Emily."

"That was an accident—"

"Ha, well. That may be so, but, truth be told, that girl will do anything for me."

Gabriella squinted, confused.

What the hell _was_ he on about?

Did...he and Emily have a history?

Woah. She hadn't seen that one coming.

"I know you," he said, out of the blue.

"You don't know _anything,_" she said, skeptically.

He smiled and murmured, "Oh, but I do." The mean tint in his eyes glinted brightly in the shadows. "Miss Gabriella Anne Montez, daughter of Maria and Alex, born in Maryland, Pennslyvania, on June 3rd, 1990, three months premature…" He stroked her face, lightly, and she cringed away until she hit the wall behind her. "Which, left you disabled... You were so tiny… They never figured out why exactly it happened that way, or who's fault it was, did they?" He condescending tone put her even more on edge as his voice was at her ear. "Parents divorced when you were fifteen..." She tried to exclaim but he clamped a hand over her mouth as his other gripped her arm. "_Don't_ make a sound, d'you hear me? I know about you, _all _about you. The things no one else know. I know. And if you tell anyone about this I will turn it all round on you so fast you won't even see me coming…" He looked at her in the eye, still talking as quietly. "And if you tell Bolton—."

She gave him a glare and tried to speak, but her stopped her.

"Speak a word to him and I will make sure he knows about the future the world has in store for you; how many operations you're going to have to have, which is bound to scare him off... And just incase it doesn't, I'll also assure him of how you begged me to come to the back alcove with you. And believe me, I make sure it doesn't sound pretty."

Gabriella felt anger rise in her. "Like he would ever believe _you._"

Adam smirked, for one second letting his ever-constant_ 'aren't I nice'_ façade disappear. "I can be very persuasive… Besides, not all I'm threatening is a lie… You haven't told him about the operations, have you? Does he know that the 'love of his life' won't be able to walk by the time she's_ twenty-five?"_

Gabriella knew he was throwing bait, but she took it anyway, frustrated and angry. She stayed silent, ashamed at the fact he was right.

"Didn't think so."

_"How…?"_ she exasperated.

Adam tipped his head. "You really don't know."

Gabriella frowned. "No, _dumbass_. I don't."

Adam smirked, enjoying himself. "Two words: Ambi Bambi."

Gabriella felt her heart drop.

_"Amber?_ You brought my _cousin_ into this?"

"Well, not intentionally. Just so happens, you don't speak to each other, she goes to West High too, and she's my girlfriend."

Gabriella swallowed her hurt and laughed.

"Figures. She always was a bit of a slut..." She smirked as he looked surprised at her words. "I can't believe she'd tell you, though."

"Oh, she didn't tell me that much. She gets bored of slagging you off. Your aunt talked to me about you, mostly. She's very talkative, did you know that? I asked Amber a few questions and your aunt filled in the rest."

Kingston's sandy blond mop of hair didn't hide the gleam in his eyes.

Gabriella chewed her lip and glared.

"Why are you _doing _this?"

Adam smirked. "Breaking little Bolton's heart is just too much fun to resist, to be honest…" His whisper was much scarier somehow than his growl. "I mean, can you imagine his face if word got round the whole town that you begged me to sleep with you?—"

"I'll _never_ sleep with a_ scumbag_ like you!—" she growled at she tried to push him again.

"Oh, and what makes you think I want to sleep with a fat, disabled virgin like _you?"_

She smirked at his contradiction.

"I don't know… Why do you?"

Suddenly his voice was much more threatening than before, but almost a silent whisper, as he seemed to not hear what she had said.

"Sweet, naïve Gabriella…" She held her breath in horror as he held a hand on either side of her face and placed a slow open-mouth kiss to her forehead. She felt frozen as she tried to cringe away from him, but the wall behind her prevented her from backing away any further.

He noticed her struggling even more at his seemingly 'affectionate' gesture, and he laughed quietly, smiling.

"What...?" he forged innocence, then faking sudden realisation. "_Oh_… I see. That's a Bolton trademark, isn't it? A 'loving kiss on the forehead'?" He laughed. "My bad."

His tone was cruel and mocking, and Gabriella curled further into the wall. She could already see what was coming.

"Hmm... I suppose I should kiss you another way instead, then, eh?"

Gabriella didn't have time to process what was happening before he had torn open the top of her shirt and attached his lips to her shoulder, using teeth and all.

Gabriella let out what she hoped what be an exclamation, but termed out to not be much more than a squeak.

She tried desperately to draw in enough breath to scream, but she couldn't.

was wrong with her lungs? Why couldn't she breathe?

"Stop. Stop. Kingston. _Stop…!" _

He pushed against her completely, as she felt panic bubble higher and higher within her.

He began to assault her lips before his intruding hands fumbled down her shirt and up her thigh.

Tears were rolling down her cheeks caused by pure fear and frustration.

"No, no! _No!_ Stop! Get off me! _Stop!" _

She yelled as loud as she could, fumbling around in the shadows as she felt hands everywhere, before finally finding the strength to kick him where it would hurt. It must have worked, because he crumpled, so she quickly pushed him away. Her whole body was so shaky she could barely take four steps. She fell to the floor once she was out of the alcove and its shadows, hurting her knees in the process, and exclaimed for help as she was sure she heard movement round the corner where the dumpsters were. She lay, trying to calm her breathing, but finding she suddenly couldn't breathe at all.

_Help me, help me someone. _

She face down on the ground, breathing shallowly, praying someone would walk while throwing away the garbage, or a couple would just so happened to come to the alcove to make out. Just, someone.

_"Gabriella?" _

Gabriella would have whooped for joy if she could breath.

"Gabriella! Oh my god! Gabriella, what happened?"

It was Lacy. Stunning Lacy.

_Halle-freakin'-lujah!_

She was suddenly helping Gabriella up by the arm. Gabriella quickly began to panic and try to look for Adam.

"Where is he?" she panicked, out of breath.

"Where is who?" Lacey asked, looking around. "There's no one here… What happened?"

"I…" She realised maybe she shouldn't tell anyone. She didn't know she could trust Lacey, and the last thing she needed was for rumours of her and Kingston doing god-knows-what in the alcove spreading around town; for Troy to hear...

"Nothing. Nothing," she said, quickly pulling herself up and trying to wipe her eyes quickly. "I just fell, that's all. You know me. I'm a klutz."

Lacey helped her up, and Gabriella tried desperately to ignore her aching and painful bloody knees, or how blotchy and make up stained her face must be.

_Just get to the bathroom. _

_Just get to the bathroom and call Mom._

She walked to the back door of the kitchen and was just about to step in when Lacey spoke up.

"You're bleeding," Lacy said, observing her knees.

Gabriella looked down complacently. "It's nothing. I'm used to more serious stuff," she said, pointing to her still discoloured nose. They both smiled in understanding, before Gabriella stiffly and shakily turned to go inside again.

"I won't tell anyone."

Lacy's call made Gabriella turn back slowly. Lacy approached Gabriella, and once they were a metre apart, she smiled slightly.

"I won't tell anyone," she repeated. "Troy's a nice guy."

"How did yo—"

"If you want my advise, _tell him_––Troy––_what happened, _before anyone else does."

Gabriella squinted.

What was this girl? A psychic?

…or maybe a past victim?

"I'll cover for you. I'll tell Fulton you're sick. Go get cleaned up and call your mom, okay?"

Gabriella was stunned into silence, so nodded dumbly.

"Thank you," she said as she slowly entered the back and hurried to find her bag before someone else noticed her.

Lacy stood, slightly smiling sympathetically as she watched her best friend's beautiful disabled cousin walk inside the restaurant stiffly to call her mom. "It's nothing. It's nothing you wouldn't do."

** ༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺ **

"Mom, please."

"Gabriella. You have homework. You know you do."

Gabriella panicked. She needed to talk to someone she trusted about the days ordeal, because, though she was a perfectionist at hiding her real feelings by this stage in her life, she was still shaking on the inside.

The very thought of _Him_ and she could still feel his hands groping all over her—again and again.

She quickly shook off her fears for now. She had to convince her mom.

"Mom. She's got a puffy black eye. She hasn't seen anyone the last few days because she's had such a bad headache. Please let me go…?"

"Gabriella. You fell today. Maybe a sleepover isn't such a good idea. Why don't you stay in and have a nice, hot bath?"

"Mom, I told you, I was just embarrassed more than hurt. I'm _okay._ I mean, what I'm trying to say is, when I almost broke my nose, wouldn't you have liked if someone had come to visit _me?" _

_C'mon, Gabriella. Tell her what she wants to hear. _

"I'll be home tomorrow morning. Then, you can pick me up and I'll come grocery shopping with you. I promise…"

Maria contemplated this. "Of course you can go. Just make sure you're up in time to come shopping with me, alright?"

Gabriella smiled, happy. "Of course. Thanks Mom!"

She hugged her mother before half crawling up the stairs on her feet and hands to go and pack a bag.

** ༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺ **

Knock, Knock.

_Oh, come on. Please actually be in after I've come all this way. _

Gabriella breathed a sigh of excitement and relief as the door opened, revealing a equally excited Emily Anderson.

"Hey, girl!" she called at the sight of tiny, innocent Gabriella on her apartment doorstep.

Gabriella laughed a little and pulled her jackets further around herself, gripping her bag harder. She was hoping––without making it obvious by looking––that the spot where He had… kissed her, _bitten_ her, wasn't visible. Though it was nothing special, she felt like anyone who looked at her could instantly read her mind; could instantly tell.

She simply felt...panicked and ashamed; like she had somehow done something to deserve what he had done to her…

Gabriella giggled, covering her real thoughts, at the sight of Emily in a rather fetching eye patch, covering her black eye.

"Nice eye." Gabriella said.

Emily smirked in response. "Nice nose."

She let out a laugh as cover. "Touché"

Suddenly, Emily hit Sergeant Major mode.

"Roommates out, so the place is all ours." She reached behind her and held up what looked to be a pile of clothes that a rainbow had thrown up on. "After your call about stupid idiot boys, I've decided we're not only having a sleepover, but an Emily-Sleepover-Extravaganza!"

Gabriella watched, slightly fearful, as Emily grinned from ear to ear and wiggled her eyebrows.

"O-_kay._ I don't even want to know what that is."

Emily smiled brightly as she pulled Gabriella inside.

She threw her arms up.

"Welcome to Casa Emily!"

"It's Casa_ de_ Emily, actually."

"Oh, whatever, _Latina." _

Gabriella didn't laugh; nerves getting the better of her.

_"Ooh,_ someone's tetchy."

"Pfff," Gabriella scoffed in reply, shutting the door behind her. "You have_ no_ fucking idea."


	12. Blind to the Truth Part 1

A/N: _Hello lovely readers,_

_I know, I'm sorry-I'm sorry-I'm sorry! I know it's been ages but I have been moving house and stuff. But now I'm on Christmas holiday so... yay:) But then I have Mock Exams straight away when I get back :( Boo. _  
><em>Not looking forward to that.<em>

_Anyway, I got a Macbook Pro for my birthday (I couldn't believe it either!) which means I can sit in any location I like and beaver away at my writing! Yay! _  
><em>So yeah, I'm 16 now, and tbh it doesn't feel any different. I keep having to remind myself actually. Hahaha. <em>

_Anywaaay, Sorry this one is so short :/ What's happened is I'm happy with this bit but not the rest, which I'm still in the process of writing, but I thought maybe you guys deserved a chapter since I've made you wait so long, and the end of this seemed like a good cut off point, so as a result, I split it :) ... _

_OKAY, so, if there are any mistakes I apologise - my Beta **LittleMissEmz** has gone home for the holidays to Oman for the first time since she moved and she doesn't have internet there yet. _

_**REVIEW PLEASE.** LET ME NOW IF YOU HATE/LIKE/LOVE IT & WHY! _

––STARSWalkBACKWARD xxxxx

**Disclaimer:** All rights belong to DISNEY... Me and my writing are just a product of their huge fan base:)

* * *

><p><strong>Spring (Easter) Break –– Day 19 (Friday)<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Blind to the Truth (Part 1)<strong>

Having a disability was like a virus.

It could be treated, toned down, disregarded... but never cured.

If there was one thing certain in Gabriella's life - it was that.

Though these thoughts were not at all relevant to her current situation as she sat on Emily Anderson's bed, they suddenly projected themselves out of the depths and shadows, to the very front of her consciousness.

She was pulling on her pajamas when she caught sight of her reflection. The sight of her form in only underwear caused her to stop and stare hard at the mirror.

Slowly her eyes traced what she saw there. Awkward, stiff legs; weak, knobbly knees...

She turned sideways slightly.

Slight cellulite on her behind; wobbly thighs; and an even wobblier stomach.

Gabriella gritted her teeth as her eyes settled on the aspect of herself she hated even more than her walk: the extra weight on her stomach.

Truth be told, Gabriella Montez couldn't remember a time when she hadn't felt 'fat.' Though so many scolded her for being 'ridiculous' whenever she spoke her weight opinions aloud, as, _technically, _she was only a size 12-14. However, she felt bigger, and so it was continuously a nagging anxiety she just couldn't shake.

Many automatically assumed she was just another pitiful teenage girl who felt sorry for herself because she wasn't a size eight. Gabriella understood this thinking at least. The issue really was nothing short of pitiful, and that was something Gabriella knew very well... But all reasoning of who was 'fat' and who was not seemed to leave her once she looked down at the layer of flesh that made her stomach stick out, and that lay like a small muffin top on the top of her jeans.

It's wasn't a huge amount of weight—she had to remind herself that some people sometimes spoke of how they wished they had her 'figure'—but it was enough to knock the remaining levels of her confidence.

Sometimes she found herself deciding it may be better to be even larger in size. She knew this, to most, sounded totally hypocritical and counteracted completely with her feelings about weight, but there was a real theory behind it.

Mostly, if she was honest, she wished she was larger in size because being larger would mean that at least no one would expect or assume that she was thin like everyone else.

At least if she looked fat from the outside, and not just _under _her clothes, then people wouldn't be surprised or––in a guys case––_disappointed_ by the extra weight they would discover if she took her shirt off...

Adam's chilling words suddenly came back to her, knocking her off-guard._ "What makes you think I want to sleep with a fat, disabled virgin like you?" _

Though she knew better than to take anything an ass such as Adam Kingston said seriously, his words did very much reflect her deepest anxieties.

Deep down she worried that Troy felt that way about her too

Did Troy think she was just a fat, disabled virgin?

Because after all, technically, she _was._

She pulled on her Calvin Klein black and white males boxers and a white sports bra before pulling a tight LA Lakers t-shirt. Realising she was probably taking too long and leaving her friend waiting with all this thinking, she quickly attempted to bend her legs so she could reach her feet to pull on her socks. This was not an easy task however, as her joints were no where near as flexible as an ordinary persons. After merely half a minute as folding her left leg over her right, her left hip cramped as it sometimes did, causing her to lose her breath from the sudden discomfort.

"Ow!" she hissed, quietly, rubbing her hip, as she quickly finally managed to pull her sock over one foot before her hip could cramp again. After leaning down to put on the next sock on her other foot, she stood and stretched, walking into the living room and kitchen area.

"Hey Chick!"

Gabriella smiled as she rounded into the kitchen, where she found Emily mixing cocktails, that made Gabriella feel drunk just by looking at them.

"What are you doing?"

Emily looked at her deviously.

"Making cocktails."

Gabriella raised her eyebrows.

"I'm underage," Gabriella dead panned with a smile.

"And I'm only just twenty-one. Go figure."

Emily handed Gabriella a tropical looking cocktail in a martini glass before carrying her own into the living room. She sat on the sofa in front of the TV that was playing MTV music videos, as Gabriella followed behind her.

As they sat watching whatever was on, Emily looked down at Gabriella's odd-sock clad feet.

"Nice socks." she asked, comically.

"What? I hate my feet," Gabriella said bluntly, not picking up on her friend's intended humour.

Emily laughed. "Everyone hates their feet."

"Not as much as I hate mine."

Emily smiled at her sympathetically before she turned back to the screen. Gabriella looked down at her bunions; the joints of her big toes that stuck out and so caused her toes to press together.

The shape of her feet just looked very..._alien. _The bunions made her feel like she had concurs growing on the inner sides of her feet.

She looked down at her feet again.

_Urgh. _They were _so_ disgusting.

"So, what's eatin' ya'?"

Gabriella swallowed a gulp of her exotic looking drink and let the taste of alcohol swill around her mouth and down her throat. It was sweet yet bitter at the same time; Gabriella guessed it was some sort of fruit flavour topped with a spirit... Perhaps vodka?

"Me? Oh just...boys."

Emily crossed her legs easily over each other on the sofa.

"Still no call from Troy, eh?"

Gabriella wrinkled her nose, suddenly feeling disappointment fill her again at the thought of Troy's lack of contact.

"No call. No text. No message. Nothing."

"Maybe it's his mom? After all, he is being punished for the fight..."

Gabriella sighed, not convinced. "I guess…"

Emily frowned. "He'll come around."

Gabriella was still frowning as she looked blankly at Usher dance across the TV screen.

"It's just it's been days, and he wasn't exactly...himself last time he spoke to me..."

Emily looked sideways at her. "Honey, he started a fight for you."

"You don't know that's what their fight was about."

"Yes, I do. How many times do I have to tell you that if Troy Bolton even so much as..._implies _something, then because of his own self honour and the traditions he has, he _has _to mean it. It's just who he is... "  
>"Where <em>are<em> you going with this?"

"He'll come around..." she repeated. "And if he doesn't, I'll kick his ass."

Gabriella smiled. "Ihope you're right," she murmured, her voice barely audible, as her fingers automatically found the area on her shoulder where Kingston had began assaulting her with his mouth...

"Something else wrong?" Emily asked in a suddenly serious and caring tone, suddenly noting her friends fidgeting.

"Kingston."

Emily gulped down the remainder of her drink. "Oh boy. What did he do?"

Gabriella blinked furiously to try to blank out the flashbacks.

"Quite a bit," she murmured.

_"Shit," _Emily cursed, huffing, as if suddenly worn out, before standing to refill her glass and attempting to cover her ears. "Wait a minute!—I don't think I want to know right now… Let's not think about it right now, okay? Tonight is not about boys. _Stupid _boys. It's about us girls… and gossiping."

Gabriella gulped. She was silently grateful for this. Even though her original intention of agreeing to a sleepover was to share the days ordeal with Kingston, she suddenly felt also physically sick at the thought of speaking of him out loud.

She felt scared.

And terribly ashamed.

A false smile stretched the width of her face. "Agreed. Screw stupid, idiotic boys!"

"Amen!" exclaimed Emily, then laughed. "More cocktail?"

Gabriella smiled weakly, laughing at the idea.

"Sure. Why the hell not!"

"Yay! Vodka time!" The mischievous glint in Emily's eyes somehow got even brighter.

_Oh, boy._ Gabriella thought._ Well done me. I've really done it now. _

**༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺**

Emily was laughing uncontrollably after her third glass.

And Gabriella was laughing even harder.

"No way," Gabriella giggled.

"No lie," Emily spluttered, holding back more laughter. "The one and only _Troy Bolton,"_ she repeated, stopping to take a breath, but she still laughed again, "shaved h-half of his eyebrow _c-clean_ off."

Gabriella's alcohol clouded mind caused her to fall backwards with laughter.

"Oh," she cooed, smiling at the thought of Troy. "Oh, bless him."

Emily placed a hand over half her eyebrow, imitating the Troy that shaved off half his eyebrow in sixth grade.

Emily giggled, more and more, and so as a result of her semi-intoxicate state, fell backwards off the sofa.

Gabriella creased up laughing and found she had tears falling down her cheeks.

"How strong are these?" Gabriella asked, lazily pointing to her glass.

Emily suddenly appeared again, her head popping out front from behind the arm rest. Her dark hair was all over the place from the fall, and she was still chuckling. She held up a thumb and finger in front of her face, looking through them.

"Just a_ lil' _bit."

Again, more insane laughter.

Gabriella picked up her phone from the table, quickly checking for any sign that Troy was still living, only to sigh heavily to herself when there was none.

Emily noted this and laughter loudly.

"You_ loove_ him. You want to kiss him—"

Gabriella threw a cushion in Emily's direction, but having zero co-ordination, she missed terribly.

Emily huffed melodramatically.

"Won't you just call him already?"

Gabriella's face scrunched with worry and disbelief.

"No.. N-no. I hate talking on the phone."

Emily looked at her, bemused. "What the hell. Why?"

Gabriella rolled her eyes. "Insecurities? I don't know! I just _do._"

Emily's eyes suddenly flashed with a look of triumph, as though she had just gained pole position in the last minute of a basketball game.

"Well, fine then._ I'll _talk to him."

Gabriella suddenly let out a huge wave of almost completely incoherent protests as Emily reached for the phone and dialed. Gabriella felt anxiety climb so high in her chest that she didn't realise at first that she had begun rugby-tackling Emily on the floor for the phone.

"Emily, no! Please don't. _Please. _Give me the pho—"

A faint _"Hello?"_ could be heard through the handsets inner-speaker.

Oh, _shit. _

"Boltooon!" whooped Emily down the receiver, deliberately making Gabriella curious by not putting the phone on loud-speaker.

"What's up?"

Gabriella was still trying to grab the phone silently, while giving Emily an evil glare. She realised a moment later that her whole face was pink from the remainders of a blush, so quickly hid her face.

"Oh, not much." Gabriella watched her reply to and unheard question. "Just a sleepover."

Hearing half the conversation was really going to get annoying.

Gabriella became very conscious of how at that moment all she wanted was to hear _that_ voice again that made her jittery and high.

_God, _she thought. _I_ really _must be suffering from Bolton withdrawals._

"Who with?" Emily repeated, looking at Gabriella teasingly. "Uh, well... You know her... She's got brown eyes, brown hair—_curly _hair. She's—"

Gabriella launched for the phone, suddenly unable to resist the urge to hear his voice any longer.

Emily struggled and failed to keep hold of the phone in her much more tipsy state.

Out of breath, Gabriella smoothed her hair for a moment before pressed the phone to her ear.

She could hear breathing.

Then there was a pause.

_"Emily? Hello?"_ he enquired.

Gabriella felt her heart hammer.

She felt her inner self sigh with relief.

There is was.

That voice

_His _voice.

_"Hell-oo?"_ he enquired again.

Gabriella gulped, and took a leap.

"...Hi Tro—"

Before she could finish, Emily pulled the phone from her, suddenly impatient.

As the phone was pulled away Gabriella would have sworn she heard Troy enquire _"Gabriella?" _from a distance through the inner-speaker of the handset.

Gabriella felt her jaw drop with angst again her friend.

"Emily!" she hissed, irritated.

"What?" shrugged Emily, forging innocence. "You're the one who said you didn't like talking on the phone!"

"Emily! Give me the phone!"

Emily laughed. "Oh so now you _want _the phone? Indecisive much?"

Gabriella launched across the sofa again for the handset, much to Emily's discontent.

"Give me the phone!"

Emily laughed. "No."

More hustle and bustle occurred, and before either of them could stop it, the phone fell from both their grasping hands and hit the floor. As a result, the back cover broke off and slid across the floor, causing pieces from under the battery cap to fall out.

"Oh..._crap!" _Emily exclaimed.

Gabriella tried to cover her laugh, failing miserably.

"Do you think he knew I was here? I think he did."

Emily looked up from picking up phone pieces on the floor.

"Ya' _think?" _Emily exclaimed sarcastically. "Of course he faacking did!"

Gabriella sat down on the sofa again, all giddiness gone, suddenly feeling weary. All the anxiousness to hear Troy's voice left her feeling hollow.

"Oh, come on! Forget Troy. Forget the phone! Dress up," she ordered, throwing a pink feather bower at her, "and dance with me!"

Gabriella frowned, amused. "Are you bipolar or something?"

Emily laughed, pulling Gabriella to her feet. "No. Just a_ taaad_ crazy."

Gabriella raised her eyebrows. 'Tad' crazy may just be the understatement of the century.

**༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺**

Gabriella felt puffed out after twenty minutes of on-off dancing.

Puffed out, and rather self-conscious.

"Oh my god," Gabriella said laughing at herself. "I can't dance."

Emily filled up their glasses. "Neither can I, honey. It's all part of the fun."

Gabriella gave her a sideways glance pessimistically. "Whatever you say."

There was beloved silence for a moment. Even the TV was silent.

Not that that lasted long.

Suddenly, the sound of Beyoncé's 'Single Ladies' could be heard from the music video channel on the TV.

Emily squealed suddenly, making Gabriella laugh. "Oh my god, I love this song!"

As more cocktails were poured, the two began to dance ecstatically.

Gabriella felt exceedingly embarrassed as she tried her best to let loose and dance. She didn't exactly feel attractive tonight and so her movements were uneasy and awkward. Still, she was laughing hard to cover her inner feelings. Nothing new there.

_'All the Single Ladies. All the Single Ladies. All the Single Ladies, now put your hands up.'_

Gabriella let the, now lemon flavoured, alcoholic cocktail flow down her throat. It really did taste good.

_"'Up in the club, we just broke up. I'm doing my own little thing. Decided to dip and now you wanna trip, Cause another brother noticed me,'" _sang Emily, not quite in tune to Gabriella's knowledge. She giggled as she watched Emily twist her body to the beat enthusiastically. Realising she had nothing to lose, she began to sing and dance along too.

_"'I'm up on him, he up on me. Don't pay him any attention! Just cried my tears, for three good years. Ya can't be mad at me...'"_

Gabriella was slowly feeling her usual awkwardness leave her––_finally._

_"'Cause if you liked it then you should have put a ring on it. If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it! Don't be mad once you see that he want it. If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it! Oh, oh, oh..."_

The two did the famous dance movements to the song as they danced around the small living room and jumped on the sofa, both now officially tipsy, wearing tutus and feather bowers over their nightwear.  
>Gabriella looked over at her friend who had tied a bandana around her head to push back up her hair, while also still wearing her eye patch to cover her bad eye. She looked a real <em>sight. <em>Gabriella had to laugh, by now not at all worried about what she looked like herself.

_"'I got gloss on my lips, a man on my hips. Got me tighter in my Dereon jeans. Acting up, drink in my cup. I can care less what you think. I need no permission, did I mention. Don't pay him any attention, Cause you had your turn and now you gonna learn, what it really feels like to kiiiiiiiss me...'" _

Gabriella looked at Emily, giggling. "You sang it wrong!"

Emily scoffed, readjusting her bandana. "Did not!"

Gabriella put a playful had on her friend's shoulder, not realising how much she was leaning on her friend. "Yes you_ did! _It's '...what it really feels like to_ miss _me––_not, 'kiiiiss' _me."

Emily wrinkled her face, disgruntled. "Whatever. I_ liike_ my version."

Gabriella smiled wryly. "Of course you do."

_"'If you liked it then you should have put a ring on it. If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it. Don't be mad once you see that he want it. If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it. Oh, oh, oh...'"_

Gabriella whirled her hair round and sang to the point where she didn't care if she was in tune anymore.

The song carried on as the two began singing even louder.

So loud, in fact, that neither heard the front door open.

Or footsteps nearing them.

But they halted at the sound of one voice.

_"Gabriella?"_


	13. Blind to the Truth Part 2

A/N: _SUP. _

_MERRY CHRISTMAS READERS! I LOVE YOU ALL._

_ Hope you like this one. It's a bit wordy, I know, but I think the wordiness is necessary, as the conversations they have in this chapter needed to be had. Hope you don't find it boring? Lets hope not._

_Let me know what you think in a review and make my day? Please?:)  
><em>_Thanks you guys for sticking with me btw:)! _

_- Shout out to **LittleMissEmz**_ in Oman! :) -

Apologises for any grammar errors!

_And again MERRY CHRISTMAS, & HAPPY HOLIDAYS! _

_––STARSWalkBACKWARD xxxxxxx_

_**Disclaimer: **Do not own rights, obviously.  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Spring (Easter) Break –– Day 19 (Friday)<strong>

* * *

><p><em>"<em><em>The way you move is like a full on rainstorm<em>  
><em>And I'm a house of cards.<em>  
><em>You're the kind of reckless<em>  
><em>That should send me runnin'<em>  
><em>But I kinda know that I won't get far.<em>  
><em>And you stood there in front of me<em>  
><em>Just close enough to touch.<em>  
><em>Close enough to hope you couldn't see<em>  
><em>What I was thinking of...<em>__

_My mind forgets to remind me_  
><em>You're a bad idea<em>  
><em>You touch me once and it's really something,<em>  
><em>You find I'm even better than you imagined I would be.<em>  
><em>I'm on my guard for the rest of the world<em>  
><em>But with you I know it's no good<em>  
><em>And I could wait patiently but I really wish you would...<em>

_Drop everything now_  
><em>Meet me in the pouring rain.<em>  
><em>Kiss me on the sidewalk<em>  
><em>Take away the pain.<em>  
><em>'cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile.<em>  
><em>Get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down.<em>  
><em>Give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around.<em>  
><em>'cause I see sparks fly, whenever you smile."<em>

_––Sparks Fly - _Taylor Swift.

**Blind to the Truth (Part 2)**_  
><em>

Troy Bolton's voice somehow broke through the noise, silencing both girls instantly. They turned their heads and saw a Troy Bolton who had abruptly stopped dead in his tracks.

Within a second, Gabriella had fallen to the floor to hide behind the couch, devastatingly embarrassed.

Emily on the other hand, just couldn't stop her laughter.

She had covered herself automatically upon intrusion, but scoffed after a moment.

"Pfff," she scoffed confidently. "Wait, why_ I _am covering myself?" she laughed. Losing all the tension caused by the unexpected surprise, she uncovered herself, easily comfortable even in a bra and boxers. "Hey Troy! What are you _doing _here?"

"Ah––I came to, uh..." he trailed off, distracted as his eyes wondered back to the couch behind which Gabriella hid. "Gabriella?"

Gabriella grit her teeth painfully, but knew there was no avoiding the inevitable, so she rose from her hiding place slowly. Her eyes never met Troy's, however, as she dropped them to the floor, her face burning. "Hi," she mumbled, pulling off and fiddling with her bower.

_I'm in boxers! _her mind shrieked. _Mens boxers and a Lakers shirt! What the _hell _will he think of me now? Oh, and no make up as well. Oh, lord._

Emily seemed to instantly sense the atmosphere between the two in front of her, and so decided space may be best.  
>"Well, I'm off to get more tequila," Emily slurred slightly, amused, as she walked towards the door.<br>Troy suddenly heard her and frowned at her lack of clothing. "Like _that?" _

Emily almost literally skidded to a halt at the door. "Oh yeah. Pants. Pants. Pants," she chanted as she managed to run the distance into her bedroom. Both more subdued figures left in the room breathed in sharply, realising that without Emily and the distraction she posed, there was nothing else to do but talk about what was on their minds to fill the silence.

And that thought, at that moment, terrified both of them.

Suddenly though, Emily popped her head her bedroom doorframe.

"Nice eye by the way," she chided of his healing but still bruised face.

"Huh. Thanks Andy. Yours is great too," he joked of her eye patch.

"I'll just give you two some privacy," she said, still chuckling to herself before closing the bedroom door.

Gabriella cringed at Emily's words, as they made the situation even more awkward.

And if there was one thing Gabriella Montez had no idea how to cope with in life, it was awkwardness. It practically gave her a panic attack.

There was quiet.

"Hey, Gabriella."

Gabriella looked up at him, glad that there was plenty of distance between them, as any closer and his eyes and jaw would have hypnotised her into silence.

"Please don't call me that."

The beautifully adorable 'V' appeared in between his eyebrows. "Call you what?"

Gabriella smiled naturally. "By my full name. I don't like it."

Troy neared her in three large easy strides.

"Well I _do."_

Gabriella didn't even think to mask your confusion.

"Gabriella," he said, his voice low, and his blue eyes much more warm and kind than the last time they had spoken. "That very fact that you don't understand the very beauty of your own name just shows..."

"Shows what?"  
>"That you don't even understand even the <em>beginnings <em>of what makes you so...so..."

"Would you stop leaving me with unfinished sentences already?"

Troy knelt until they were eye to eye where Gabriella sat on the sofa, chuckling.

"Sorry, it's just... I can't believe you don't like your name."

"It's kinda'... an impersonal thing to be called... Well at least that's what it feels like."

Troy smiled as he sat down next to her on the couch. Slowly, realisation hit him.

"Wait a minute... Do you not want me to call you Gabriella because...you feel like we'd be _closer _if I had a nickname for you?" His tone was one of disbelief.

"Well...best friends, couples...they all have nicknames for each other... I just thought––"

"––Well, _don't. _No nickname will ever do you justice, Gabriella," Troy said, shaking his head.  
>They both fell into silence as the settled on opposite ends of the small couch. Gabriella tried to hide how stunned and starstruck she was at his words.<p>

She knew then that she was never going to forget that soft, gentlemanly compliment he had given her for as long as she lived.  
>Slowly she reached over for the cocktail shaker and a glass.<p>

"Alcohol?" she joked, offering him the tumbler lazily, almost missing his hand.

Troy laughed, looking at her with an unreadable expression for a moment.

"Have you been... Gabriella, are you _drunk_?"

Gabriella breathed in deeply, closing her eyes with a slight carefree smile, lifting up her hands and shrugging. "_Whoo_ knows."

Troy let out an amused breath, his eyes were warm as the corner of his lips tugged up in a soft smile. "Are you feeling okay?"

Gabriella smiled, leaning her head against the cushion behind her. "I'm feeling...drunk."

Troy laughed, grinning before swallowing the remainders of his glass. "No wonder. How many of these have you had?"

"Not a clue."

"Tut tut. Naughty naughty, Gabriella."

Gabriella felt her heart jump at his words, even though she knew he had not meant them the way she imagined.

For some reason, Gabriella then found herself winking at him.

"You bet."

Troy tipped his head to the side and his eyes narrowed playfully, secretly surprised by her confident gesture.

"You're _definitely _drunk."

"How's your time under house arrest been?" she asked, suddenly changing the subject.

Troy shook his head. "_Urgh!_ Awful. I was seriously suffering from cabin fever until tonight."

"How'd you get out?"

"I told my mom I was visiting Emily who still had a concussion."

At that moment, Emily hopped past them, pulling on a sock, at first rather unsuccessfully in her tipsy state.

The couple on the sofa laugh at the sight.

"Yeah. She _really _has a concussion alright."

They laugh again as Emily turns to give them a dirty look. "Oh shut _up_."

They watched her leave, still laughing amongst themselves.

"She's absolutely _mad,"_ Gabriella giggled.

"Insane."

"_Certifiably_ insane."

They smiled mutually at each other in a moment of quiet.

"You wanna know something?" Gabriella asked, slowly leaning forward towards him.

"What?"

"I thought _I _was crazy," she laughed. "But I've realised compared to Emily I'm no where near crazy."

"What do you like, Gabriella? I've realised I know, like, _nothing _about you._" _

"What do I like? The Script––the British band. I _love _them. I don't suppose you know who they are––"

"No way! You like them? They _rock. _But, but I didn't think anyone here knew... How––?"

"My mom transferred to London for half a year when I was younger. Not long enough to pick up the lingo, but long enough to find things I like... How did you come by liking such an _un-_American type of music?"

"I go to Europe a lot––my _Nonna_––grandmother––is italian. So I've dropped by in England from time to time because of that. Plus, my mom loves the rural Norfolk area on the English east coast, which is also where her brother––my uncle––lives, and at one point she dragged me in the only city around in that area––Norwich––to go shopping with her. So all I did while she shopped was search through the music. The Script were on the radio that day, and I'd heard them, so I decided to look them up. I think they're _seriously _great."

"That's _so _cool! You have family all over! Italy _and _Norfolk, England! who would've thought?" she teased.  
>He laughed. "Look who's talkin'! Miss <em>Latina."<em>

Gabriella's cheerfulness withered a little. "I wish people wouldn't call me that. I'm not a Latina."

He frowned. "But I saw you, that day at the restaurant, talking to those peo––"

"I _do _speak Spanish, but _not_ fluently like my mom does... I've never been very good with that kind of stuff."

There was quiet for a moment, as Gabriella secretly worried she had ruined one of Troy's secret fantasies about an exotic woman, or something to that effect.  
>"Do you have a favourite song?" he suddenly asked.<p>

"Hmm?"

"The Script. What's your favourite song of theirs?"

She considered this for a moment, wanting the answer to be true. "Either 'Exit Wounds' or 'Nothing.' Yours?"

"Well, I have always had a thing with 'The Man Who Can't Be Moved.' I don't know I, I've just always quite liked the idea that maybe there really is someone out there that would be worth waiting on a street corner for... y'know?"

"Yeah... It's a nice thought... Not that _I _will ever need to worry about that," she snorted.

"Gabriella, there definitely _are_ people out there who wouldn't hesitate to wait on a street corner for you."

Gabriella felt her breath leave her.

"In fact, they may...not necessarily be _out there _even... but...right _here,_" he husked, motioning subtly to himself.

Gabriella smiled slightly, unconvinced even as she looked up at his bright azure eyes. "_Whatever_," she mumbled quietly.

Troy laughed at her sobering demeanour. "I mean it..."

She looked up at him, her eyes displacing the same inner turmoil that her slight frown portrayed. "I _want _to believe you," she reassured as her eyes moved from his eyes, downwards, and then back again. "I _do_... It's just impossible... It's just, not _me._"

"Do I have to prove _everything _to you?" he smiled, amused.

"Believe me, it's irritating for me too. I wish I could just learn to...except things as they come..."

Troy's face suddenly creased with humour as he chuckled throatily, shaking his head a little. "Being blind to the truth is what makes you _you, _Gab. You shouldn't wish it away." He neared her with clear intentions, however lost himself for a moment and didn't speak again straight away. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Be the most..._modest _person I've ever met."

"Oh, it's a talent..." she laughed. "Nah, that's bullshit. I'm not _modest. _I'm just a pathetic person with no self esteem who _literally _doesn't believe any nice thing you say. "

"There are ways to help with that, you know."

Gabriella rolled her eyes. "Huh. Yeah," she chided, sarcastically.

Troy almost scoffed at her definitiveness as his tongue slid across his teeth. "It's true!" he husked, forcefully.

"How exactly?" she questioned, cynically.

Troy leant forward, so their faces were closer than they had been in a while. "By listening!" he breathed, exasperated. "By _really...listening..._and_ believing."_

Gabriella shook her head and let out a breath, looking down at her lap, shy and dismissive. "You're..." she squinted, "_ridiculous._"

Troy put down his glass and leant near to Gabriella left ear as she sat straight on the sofa.

"Listen. You are _you, _Gabriella. _You. _You may be reserved, intense, shy, and overly self-conscious," Gabriella scoffed at this, slightly offended, staring down at her lap. "_But, _you're also exceedingly _kind, _and _intriguing, _and _genuine,_ _intelligent_, and perfectly, _perfectly, unique._ There's nothing wrong with being_ you_."

Gabriella could already feel it; the lump of inevitable tears building in her throat. This subject was always a penetrating one––or maybe she was just too sensitive.

She inwardly kicked herself that she still had such an obvious and over-powering weakness. Why was it that conversations about her personality or disability always made her feel so weak and tearful? So... _broken?_

"I know that," she said, louder and harsher than intended as she tried to hide the teary tone of her voice. She sighed as she carried on hiding her face. "I know," she repeated, softer this time. "Believe me, I stick to who I am, because, _hell, _if I didn't who would I be? It's just... I hate feeling so..._me _all the time. Sometimes I just wish I could have a days break from it all, y'know? Just one day away from...being me, being the one with all the obvious imperfections that everyone can see." she paused for a moment, not realising how quiet her voice had become, "Being me...it just gets old, I guess."

Even by the end of her first sentence she was struggling with her breathing as her throat was tight and aching with unshed tears.

"You wanna know something?" Troy asked, his tone equally as soft as he lay back into the cushions of the sofa, his body inches from hers.

"What?" she asked, tears slightly evident in his voice.

"I feel that way too sometimes."

At first Gabriella was sure he was making fun of her.

"You?" she said, looking his way before she could stop herself.

"You don't have to act so surprised."

"Sorry, it's just... I'm intrigued now," she said, sniffing and wiping her eyes.

He smiled a little. "Well, it's simple really... All my parents friends are like, 'Your son's the _basketball guy. _You must be so...proud.' But they forget, that's not _all_ I am. In fact, I don't think that's what I want at all anymore... It's hard to know anything when people have been _telling _you what you want since you were born..."

"I get that. My mom's been talking about me going to Stanford practically forever, but I simply, if I'm honest, don't feel worthy enough."

"Precisely! It's the same with me and U of A. Yeah, since forever people have been _telling _me I could definitely be worthy of the Red Hawks...but what if I don't _feel _like that's what's right... Apparently what I think doesn't matter though, considering my dad _stood over_ _me_ while I wrote out my U of A application..."

"It must be hard, being the coaches son."

Troy looked perplexed for a moment. "He just don't understand that what he wants isn't necessarily what I want."

Gabriella smiled slightly. "What is it that _you _want, Troy?"

Troy suddenly looked puzzled and shy. "I don't know..."

Gabriella leant back into the cushions so she could see his face. "I do."

Troy's eyes narrowed at this. "And what is that then?

"You like helping people––making their day. It's what you like, and what you want to 're interested in sport––of course––but also in it's science and medicine."

Troy smiled. "Meaning?"

"Meaning," she ventured confidently. "You're thinking of medicine. Helping people and getting paid for it. Then,_ eventually, _sports medicine––surgery."

Troy cocked his head slightly, impressed, as he pushed his hair back from his face. "Wow, Montez. Have you considered Psychology?"

"Reading people for a living? I'm not so sure."

"Oh come _on! _It's not normal to be able to do what you just did to people! I never told you about my considerations about medicine, yet you knew––you figured it out!"

Gabriella smiled modestly. "It's not that difficult."

Troy laughed lazily. "Oh, so now I'm an open book?"

Gabriella frowned at his comment, taking it very seriously. "No. No. Quite the opposite," she murmured.

"So, I'm hard to read?"

"All males are."

He barked a chuckle. "I find you hard to read too, y'know."

"I know... I make it that way. Deliberately."

"It's very frustrating."

Gabriella frowned, silently agreeing with him. "It's practical––in my situation..."

"How was today? At work?" Troy asked as he leant forward to pour himself another drink.

That was the one thing she was praying he would forget to ask.

She couldn't lie. Not to him.

By now, the alcohol seemed to to have worn off quite a bit, and the flashbacks of the days ordeal were starting again, making her jittery.

"Gabriella?" he enquired, instantly concerned when observing her lack of a reply and her glazed expression.

The flashbacks were stronger now that she had thought about it, and suddenly very persistent. Suddenly her breathing was ragged and she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Gabriella?" Troy questioned, concerned and slightly panicked, his voice louder this time, not hesitating to put his hands on her arms and make contact.

"I'm," she tried to take a breath. "I'm sorry, T-Troy."

His frown had deepened with confusion and concern. "Sorry about what? Gabriella, what's going on?" he asked in a low husked voice.

Gabriella was pressing a hand over the patch on her lower neck where Kingston had assaulted her as she tried to stand to move away from him. "Nothing, I––"

"Gabriella," he said sternly, holding her down on the couch. "Tell me what's going on."

He noticed her rubbing her neck, and prepared to question why, but she spoke first.

"I was going to tell you straight away, but-but you hadn't spoken to me properly since the night of our kiss so I––"

"Wha––?"

"Please, let me finish," she murmured. "I _was_ going to call you, but I, I was afraid that you didn't want to talk to me...that you regreted our kiss or something...so I didn't call you..." She felt very teary now. "I wish I had, because it's been haunting me..."  
>"<em>What <em>has? What's going on?"

She took a breath. "Today...when I went round the back near the alcove––"

"The _alcove?––_"

"I went round the back way so I wouldn't get noticed, because I was trying to find Paul when I shouldn't have been...and just as I passed the alcove..._he_ was there."

"Who?" Troy Troy frowned, leaning to try to see into her hidden eyes. "Gabriella, who was there?"

"K-Kingston."

Gabriella felt his entire physique tense at the mention of _his _name.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice low and pained. "What did he do?" Realisation suddenly hit him. "The alcove... Oh _god, _what did he do?"

Gabriella squeezed her eyes shut and sniffed as she pulled her t-shirt away from her neck to reveal the bruising that Kingston had left.

"_Jeez!"_ he breathed suddenly as his face scrunched up in disgust, looking from the bruising to her face and back again."He..." his voice was suddenly rough and slightly squeaky with emotion. "He did this to you? He did this to you..." Suddenly his eyes snapped up. "_How?"_

Gabriella looked away even more. "With his mouth..." she wheezed. "I tried to stop him," she whispered. "I tried... But he threatened me."

"Oh my go––This is all my fault––"

"––No!" Gabriella stopped him quickly from getting angry or leaving, which ever might come first. She looked up at his face for the first time in a while and saw complete inner turmoil in his eyes as he battled the urge to get angry at her assaulter.

He could pummel the bastard later, with pleasure. But all she really needed now was _him. _

"He _threatened_ you?"

She nodded, still huddled, looking away. "He said...if I told you what he did, then he would t-tell you..."

He frowned. "Tell me what?"

"You have to understand that there are _so _many t-things I want to tell you...but, I can't fit them all into one night..." She breathed. "You have to be patient with me, okay-y? I _will _tell you, I promise... I'm not a liar, not matter what he says."

"Gabriella. Calm down, I get it... Don't worry about Kingston... He basically spews lies from his guts. Like I'm ever going to believe him over you."

"Yeah. He's a piece of work."

His eyes dropped to her neck and collarbone again at her words, his gaze more calculating and sensible this time. "Does it hurt?" he murmured as he ran his fingertips along the discolouration.

"Not that much. I've had worse," she said, equally as softly, as she indicated to her still slightly discoloured nose. "It's just how he did it that...freaks me out."

He was still frowning as he withdrew his hand and lay back on the sofa again, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'm so sorry," he murmured, his expression distorted with worry, as he wiped a stray tears from her cheeks.

"Don't be... It's not your fau––"

"Don't you _dare _say it's not my fault. Of course it is. We both know this would _not_ have happened if I hadn't got into a stupid fight and got suspended."

"I don't care," she said truthfully. "You're here now... _even though_ your mom might kill you."

He smiled a little. "I don't care about that."

She nodded, wiping her eyes. "Figured."

After a moment of quiet, Troy looked back at her again.

"What you said just now...that you thought I regretted our kiss... Is that really what you think?"

"Well...yeah," she paused for a moment. "Do you remember when Sharpay ambushed me on my first day of work, and you..._comforted_ me even though you didn't have to?" _Oh _god, _Gabriella, shut up! Just shut up!_ "And then the time when you told me off for doubting myself in the staff locker room...? And when you saved me from total humiliation _as well as _fixing up my nose..."

"..._Yes. _I remember all those things, of course I do, but what is this about?"

"Did you really mean it? All of it? Like when you said you," she swallowed hard, "_liked _me, in the tree house... And, the...kiss... Did you mean it?"

"Yes. Yes. _Yes_. And," he looked straight into her shy eyes, smiling, "_Yes. _I most _definitely _meant the last two."

Suddenly, Gabriella was embracing him, her arms circling his neck tightly and burying her face into the crook of his neck, feeling the soft skin of his lower neck against her nose and mouth.

Then, she felt it. Complete satisfaction. Something she had never felt in her life before.

Then she heard him wince, and cringed with guilt. "Sorry! I forgot. How are your ribs, by the way?"

"Getting better, but not quite healed yet."

She soothingly ran down his t-shirt clad rib cage, then suddenly laughed. "Look at us. All battered and in-the-wars. What a pair we make."

"Mmm..." he murmured with satisfaction, as she embraced him again, more gently this time. "Yeah. I agree. What a pair we _do _make," he said, smiling to himself at the hidden assumption of his words.

After a minute, he spoke, referring back to their previous topic of conversation.  
>"I am sorry for one thing though," he said. "I rushed into that kiss the other day. It wasn't smooth, or at all perfect first kiss worthy..."<p>

"You're right. It was rushed," she murmured against his neck. "But at least it was memorable..."

"A memorable..._waste_," Troy conceded quickly. "I should have savoured it for you, not stolen it. I apologise."

"It's okay... I've been properly kissed now...and by _Troy Bolton _no less. Something to tick off my Bucket List."

Troy pulled back slightly to look at her face, slightly chuckling. "Kissing me was really on your Bucket List?"

Gabriela scoffed. "Honey, being kissed _by anyone _was on my Bucket List."

Troy ran a finger over her brow. "Well, you've been kissed now..."

"And yet, I'm still a dork."

"Oh _hush," _he smiled_. _She nudged him hard with her bony elbow and he laughed. "You are, but, you're _my_ dork," he said, out loud, for the first time.

She let out a loud breath. "You can't say things like that to me..."

Troy smirked slightly. "And why not?"

"Because it's hardly fair. You're... _dazzling."_

_Oh good god. Please tell me I did _not _just say that?_

Troy felt himself blush. "Uh... What do you see that I don't?"

"Oh, don't be like that! You _must _know what you do to people! And yes, this might be the alcohol talking, but, seriously, you dazzle people when you say things like that and it's not fair on the poor helpless girls that is subjected to it."

"Do I...dazzle _you, _Miss Montez?"

Gabriella rolled her eyes, not realising Troy's apprehension of her answer.

"Don't ask such ridiculously obvious questions. I'm a girl, aren't I?"

"Gabriella," he neared her slightly. "You're not making any sense."

"Oh yeah, make fun of drunk Gabriella. Ha-ha."

Suddenly the sound of Emily badging the door opening, _still _laughing to herself, filled the room.

"Hey Lovebirds!"

Gabriella looked over the back of the couch at Emily and laughed, suddenly contently happy again, as if the intimate conversation that ad just occurred in another world completely. Both looked over at their friend with the eyepatch, and Gabriella didn't miss the way Troy used this moment as a distraction so he could slide and rest an arm around her shoulders.

"Hey Andy. How's the tequila? Any left?" he grinned.

"Not if you keep talking to me like that, there definitely won't be any left for you."

"Don't worry about it. I have to go anyway. My mom wants me back by eleven. You guys going to the Lava Springs staff party tomorrow night?"

Gabriella smiled at him. "_Duh!" _

Troy smiled at both girls as they agreed. "I guess I'll see you there then."

"You're allowed to go?" Emily asked as she tried to pour herself another drink.

"Well, there's only so long my mom can stand me being there whenever she gets home... And as for the Evans', turns out they weren't so bothered by the fight, as it wasn't in front of any customers. It was actually Mr Fulton who initiated the whole suspention thing... Apparently the Evans' want me to be there as a thank you for all the holiday work I've done for them..."

"_Pfft_," Emily laughed. "And it's not as if Sharpay's going to turn _you _in," she said, smirking at him. "I mean, c'mon dude. She _seriously _wants to get into your pants."

He moved from the couch and took the tumbler from Emily, smiling. "Here," he said, likely mockingly, as he successfully poured her a drink and didn't spill it as she had.

As Troy was saying his goodbyes to the two girls, he leant over the back of the couch so his face was only inches above Gabriella's.

"You don't have a shift tomorrow, do you?" he asked lowly, so their drunk companion couldn't hear. He was worried she would have to go back to work with Kingston while he still wasn't there, but to his immense relief, she shook her head.

"I said I was sick when I left after..." she trailed. "After. So, I don't think they expect me to come in tomorrow."

He smirked at her. "But you'll be turning up for the party?"

"Only if you do."

He laughed and smoothed a hand over her hair for a moment, before withdrawing his hand and standing straight. "That's my girl."

Emily suddenly burst into the most manifest deliberate coughing fit Gabriella had ever heard. Troy, however, ignored her.

"Nice outfit, by the way," he teased Gabriella as he looked down at her in the boxers and tight LA Lakers t-shirt she wore.

He then felt delight at the sight of the deep, hot blush that spread up her neck to her face and ears.

Emily was still coughing manifestably, so Gabriella used that as an excuse to laugh, distracting attention from her blush.

Troy took one last moment to watch her, before he threw a final intense glance her way with his captivating azure eyes, murmuring goodnight. He then turned towards the door. "Goodnight all," he called, in a typically country way, over his shoulder before he opened the door and walked out.

Gabriella was still smiling just as brightly exactly ten minutes later.

"Oh _jeez,_" Emily droned, melodramatically, at her friend's romantic haze. "Here we go again. If you two don't get off at the party tomorrow night, I might _actually _kill myself. I can't be dealing with anymore of this '_Oh, Troy. If only you knew.' 'Oh, Gabriella. I feel so bad, so guilty.'" _She made a face. "Seriously. It's gettin' old."

Gabriella just laughed. "And your getting cranky..."

Emily sat down, agreeing with her, and turned on a Lakers game repeat on ESPN. After a moment so exclaimed "Oh my god, Bryant! Get your act together!" at the screen. "Seriously. Even lover-boy _Bolton_ is a better point-guard than that!"

Gabriella just laughed again. She didn't like to get into the politics of the game, she just liked to watch; to feel part of a crowd in which anyone and everyone belonged. It was nice. Hopefully one day she'd actually get to _go _to a Lakers basketball game.

Suddenly Gabriella's phone buzzed on the table––not that Emily noticed at all.

_Hey Gabriella. _

_I'm sorry I had to leave you with..._that. _Don't let her drink too much, okay? Same goes to you too! I'll see you at the party tomorrow!  
>What are you wearing? I want to make sure so we're color co-ordinated. ;) LOL. Kidding! I'll tell you something though, I would <em>love _if you wore that Lakers t-shirt again. ;) Why didn't you tell me we were a Lakers fan?_

_I have to go before my mom shoots me, or worse, grounds me even more.  
>Sweet dreams, Gab.<br>T xxxxxxxx_

Gabriella swallowed, noting that was the longest text she had ever known a boy to send.

_I'll look after both of us. Don't worry. _

_Haha, very funny. No, sorry to disappoint, but the Lakers t-shirt will not be making a public outing. It's as shy as I am :L  
>There are a lot of things I have yet to tell you - the Lakers being just one of them. ;)<em>

_LOL, yeah. Good idea!  
><em>_Goodnight Troy. See you tomorrow xxxxxxxx_

Gabriella noted, like the sad, pathetic person she was, that she counted to make sure the amount of kisses she wrote at the end was equal to the amount he had written.

She swallowed as she placed her phone back on the table, waiting until Emily calmed down before she even _attempted_ to input on the her rude running commentary of the game.

After a while, Gabriella stiffly got up and pulled out the _Ben & Jerry's _she had brought with her and began to fish ice cream straight out the tub and eat it. While her senses were filled with the taste and smell of cookie dough ice cream loveliness, her mind was reliving Troy Bolton being close and warm next to her on the couch, _again _and _again. _

_Yum. _Gabriella grinned, daydreaming, only to then be hit by a cushion that Emily threw at close range.

"Stop looking like a lovesick idiot already!"

Gabriella just laughed and laughed, because suddenly she realised that was _exactly _what she was. And more importantly, weirdly, she wasn't_ afraid_.

Not afraid. Not anymore.


	14. AUTHOR'S NOTE

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Hello readers,

This is going to be quick and to the point.

FIRST, DO NOT PANIC. I am NOT, and I repeat, NOT going on hiatus. 

SECOND, I apologise for the delay of, what, three months? I feel guilty, like _really _guilty, because I've built up a lovely reader base that now I've probably lost due to lack of updates with this story, but _PLEASE_ hear me what I say this story is still _VERY_ close to my heart as you know. So, I **WILL** be finishing it. Do not worry.

THIRD, I want you to know I have _not_ just been sat twiddling my thumbs this whole time. I have been MAJORLY working on a _Twilight (Bella and Edward)_ piece of fan fiction that was originally meant to be a one-shot, but as **LittleMissEmz **and I have discussed, it certainly will be more than that now, as I am currently on 14,060 words and it's not even finished. Yeah. A lot.

So yeah, if you're a **TWIHARD** (Like Emily and I,) then this may seriously interest you, so stick around for the posting of that soon! I'm religiously working on it in my free time at the moment, particularly this weekend as I have just finished my Drama GCSE Practical Exam which had been looming over me for a while. I cannot guarantee a posting date as there will be plenty more GCSE exams and work to do right up until my last exam on June 20th...

However, I promise I will try to post SOMETHING soon. PINKIE PROMISE.

The **Twilight (Bella and Edward)** fan fiction piece doesn't have a definite name yet, but I know where I'm going with it.  
>I'm not revealing ANYTHING, so you Twihard's will have to wait and see;)<p>

Once this Twilight thing is posted and done, I will DEFINITELY carry on with **this** story **(TWNC.)**  
>I FREAKIN' PROMISE, OKAY?<p>

However, how long I take to write and post it will depend on the response I get from the _Bella and Edward_ fanfic, so be sure to post a review when you read it if you like it!

Again, SORRY FOR BEING SUCH A LET-DOWN OF A WRITER LATELY. Exams always seem to get in the way.

And, again, THANK YOU FOR BEING AWESOME READERS!

PEACE AND LOVE,

**STARSWalkBACKWARD **

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x


	15. Laters Baby

A/N:_ I'm baaaaaaack!_  
><em>How are you guys doing? I've missed you : But I have NO MORE EXAMS. I have officially finished my GCSEs! WOO! And Prom is in TWO DAAAAYS! Ahhhh. _  
><em>Then the after-Prom party...which could be wild.<em>  
><em>So, all in all, excitement all round! <em>  
><em>Oh and GUESS FREAKIN' WHAT? <strong>I MET ZAC EFRON.<strong> UH, I KNOW RIGHT? CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? - THE INSPIRATION FOR THIS STORY, FOR EVERYTHIIING AND_ **_I MET HIM..._**_ I was so happy THAT DAY, I can't even tell you... He was so beautiful in person you guys, you have no idea...more than I ever imaged, and he signed my copy of The Lucky One... What a day, seriously.  
>Anyway, I can't believe it's been so long since I updated. I'm so sorry for leaving you guys hanging, but I am now officially free to write for 2 WHOLE MONTHS. WOO!<em>  
><em>So, please leave me a review to let me know what you think, pleeeease? I love you guys so much, thank you for being so patient with me! PEACE &amp; LOVE <em>  
><em>x x x STARSWalkBACKWARD x x x<em>

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own HSM, or its characters... Not even Troy Bolton. Shame I know, but whatcha gonna do? :L  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Spring (Easter) Break –– Day 2021 (Saturday/Sunday)**

* * *

><p><em>"I can be selfish<em>  
><em>Yeah, so impatient<em>  
><em>Sometimes I feel like Marilyn Monroe<em>  
><em>I'm insecure yeah I make mistakes<em>  
><em>Sometimes I feel like I'm at the end of the road<em>

_Its like all the good things_  
><em>They fall apart like…<em>  
><em>Like Marilyn Monroe<em>  
><em>Truth is we mess up<em>  
><em>Till we get it right<em>  
><em>I don't want to end up losing my soul<em>

_I can get low I can get low_  
><em>Don't know which way is up<em>  
><em>Yeah I can get high, I can get high<em>  
><em>Like I could never come down<em>

_Take me or leave me_  
><em>I'll never be perfect<em>  
><em>Believe me I'm worth it<em>  
><em>So take me or leave me.<em>

_Call it a curse_  
><em>Or just call me blessed<em>  
><em>If you can't handle my worst<em>  
><em>You ain't getting my best<em>  
><em>Is this how Marilyn Monroe felt?<em>  
><em>Must be how Marilyn Monroe felt."<em>

––'Marilyn Monroe' - Nicki Minaj

* * *

><p>'<em><strong>Laters Baby'<strong>_

_ Grocery shopping. How I despise you, _Gabriella thought to herself as she traipsed around Walmart with her mother. While Maria Montez went for bread, Gabriella was in charge of dairy and desserts. As she walked with her basket, scanning her gaze across the dessert shelves, she felt a tap on her shoulder, making her jump. Quickly, she turned, weary, only to squeal at the sight of Taylor McKessie before her. They squeezed each other in a tight hug.

"Oh my god, hey!" Gabriella smiled. Once they let go, they both laughed.

"Fancy seeing you here!" Taylor said as she fell into step beside her friend, who had gone back to scanning the shelves.

"I know, right?" Gabriella sighed.

"You alright?" Taylor enquired.

"Well, there's a staff party at Lava Springs tonight..." she ventured, hesitantly.

"Are you going?" Taylor asked, suddenly excited and enthusiastic.

"Yes," Gabriella swallowed. "And I'm terrified."

"Oh, don't be silly! You'll be fine! You said you'd made friends, right?"

"Yeah," Gabriella croaked, before clearing her throat. "I'm just not used to parties where I don't know anyone is all."

"I know," Taylor said kindly, smiling. "Do you know what you're going to wear?"

Gabriella frowned, suddenly even more nervous. "_Shit_. I hadn't thought about it..."

"I'm sure you'll find something... Do you want me to come over and help you decide?"

Gabriella pulled some milk down from the shelve, feeling the almost painful tug on her arm from the heavy baskets handle.

"I think I'll be alright," Gabriella said carefully, secretly just wanting to have some time alone. "But thanks."

"So, what did you get up to last night? You went to that Emily girl's place, right?"

Gabriella grabbed some yogurt, placing it in her basket slowly. "Yeah..."

"_Yeah..._ what?"

"Nothing..."

Gabriella avoided Taylor's gaze, knowing her friend was seconds away from realising why she was so shy about talking about her evening at Emily's...

Gabriella sighed. _Three. Two. One..._

Taylor gasps. "Oh my god, _he _was there, wasn't he?"

Gabriella pretended to be engrossed by the products on the shelves, playing dumb, as they walked down another aisle. "He, who?"

"You know who..." When Gabriella said nothing, Taylor decided to elaborate. "Troy Bolton, you dummy, that's who!"

Gabriella sighed, wishing her friend wouldn't make her so embarrassed. "He dropped by, yeah..." Gabriella admitted reluctantly.

"But, I thought you said he was grounded after the fight with Kingston..."

Gabriella felt herself tensing, the fact she hadn't told her best friend much at all of what had happened with both Troy or Kingston coming to the forefront of her mind. She swallowed. "He was, but his mom thought he was visiting Emily..."

Taylor frowned thoughtfully. "So, did you talk to him?"

"Yeah... Mostly about work and stuff... Although, I found out he loves The Script too."

"The Script as in your favourite British band The Script? _He_ knows who they are?"

"I know!" Gabriella laughed, secretly liking the attention talking about Troy Bolton gave her. "I couldn't believe it either. Turns out he has family in England..."

"Huh," Taylor nodded, impressed. "Who would've thought..."

"Yeah," Gabriella said wistfully, trying not to make it too obvious that her thoughts were filled with beautiful images of Troy again.

Suddenly, Gabriella felt her phone buzz and ring in her pocket, and so pulled it out hastily. As a result of trying to juggle both the basket and her phone, Gabriella did not have time to check the Caller ID.

"Hello?" she asked, slightly breathless as Taylor took her basket from her.

"Gabi!" she heard her mother call cheerfully done the line. "Where are you? I know you like desserts but surely you can't need that many!"

Gabriella rolled her eyes. "I'm just getting what you asked, mom. I ran into Taylor, sorry. Where-abouts are you?"

"I'm near the tills, and you'll never guess who I ran into..."

Dread filled Gabriella instantly at her mothers cooing tone.

"Oh god, who?"

"Oh, Gabi! Don't be like that, just hurry up."

"Okay, okay," Gabriella conceded, voice filled with slight annoyance.

"Mom?" Taylor asked as her friend hung up the phone.

Gabriella nodded grimly. "Yup. She says she's just bumped into someone... I fucking dread to think who it is."

As they both walked back towards the checkouts with a heavy basket, Taylor laughed a little. "Are you tired or something?"

Gabriella frowned, bemused. "No, why?"

Taylor shook her head. "You just seem a little more...irritable than usual."

Gabriella just looked ahead of her as they walked, yet again finding herself ignoring stares, this time of some teenage boys, as she walked passed them.

She wanted to turn and yell at them, _Yeah, I walk weirdly, so _what_?, _but that was the opposite of her nature. Plus, if she was honest, she just wasn't brave enough.

The two girls turned the corner, only to see the sight of Gabriella's mother Maria deep in conversation with none other than Lucille Bolton, and by his mothers side was none of than Troy Bolton.

One word ringed through Gabriella's mind like a siren. _Shit!_

Gabriella looked over at her best friend, to see that she was also startled.

"Is that...?" Taylor became, her voice small for once.

"Yeah," Gabriella confirmed in a even smaller voice.

"Oh there she is!" Maria said as she spotted her daughter. All three turned to Gabriella, who felt painfully awkward.

Oh how she would enjoy killing her mother for this.

"Hi," Gabriella called in small voice, going to join them, Taylor following her. "Sorry I took so long, mom. I ran into Taylor."

"Hi Maria," Taylor spoke warmly.

Mrs Bolton gave Gabriella a knowing eye as she greeted her, the same eye that said, _I know you remember me. _Gabriella, yet again, chose to ignore it, as it was obvious Troy Bolton did not know about her being one of his mothers' former patients.

Once the awkward greeting has passed, Gabriella's mother went back into deep conversation with Troy's mother. This left Gabriella no other option than to turn to Troy. Inside, her shy side was cringing.

"Hey Gab," Troy spoke softly, his voice even more soothing than she remembered. "Recovered from last night I see?"

At this, she could not resist the urge to roll her eyes in annoyance at his obvious teasing. "Yes, very much."

"Wait," came Taylor's voice from beside her. "Recovery from _what? _Do you tell me _anything _anymore?"

Gabriella could tell her friend was being deliberately overdramatic for comical effect, but still, in her current mood, it did not entertain her. Only embarrassing her further. Troy on the other hand, _was _laughing. The god-damn beautiful bastard.

"Excuse her," Taylor then said, making Gabriella want to lash out to shut her up. "She's a be cranky today... You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that now, would you, Bolton?"

Gabriella felt her eyes begin to bulged out her head as she stared at her so-called 'best friend.' What _was_ this?

"No, no. I think, if anything, this hangover behaviour is Emily's doing..." Troy smirked, looking directly at Gabriella, amused.

Gabriella just glared at both of them, feeling another headache starting take hold. "It's not funny."

"Oh but it is, Miss Montez," Troy teased, his crooked grin she boyish and playful it was breath-taking.

"Can you both just shut up?" Gabriella snapped, but in good humour. This only made both Taylor and Troy laugh more. Gabriella frowned, embarrassed and bewildered after arriving in her slouch wear with no make up to find Troy Bolton when she hadn't expected him. The awkwardness seeped through her as she pretended to be irritated with the two in front of her.

"I have to go meet my mom," Taylor suddenly said. "Text me!" she called over her shoulder as she walked away, and Gabriella didn't miss the look she was given.

"I will!" Gabriella called after her. The moment Taylor left, Gabriella felt the mood shift. Suddenly Gabriella phone buzzed as she stared everywhere but Troy. Her mother was still deep in discussion with Lucille, so Gabriella placed her basket down and retrieved her phone. When she looked down at his however, her jaw set as she read the text she had just received from the young man in front of her who was holding his phone, looking complacent.

_I'm sorry if I made things awkward for you. T xxx_

"Don't be ridiculous," she muttered to him in reply. He must have heard as he came to stand closer, so they were almost shoulder to shoulder.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and it took all the willpower Gabriella had not to look the opposite away when he caught her gaze. His cobalt eyes were so intense, though the rims of his eyes slightly red, as though he'd been rubbing them. His hair in all its brunette and blond tones, was everywhere. It looked soft, and yet again Gabriella found herself wishing she could touch it.

She blinked, realising he'd asked her a question, however, before she could respond, he spoke again.

"How's your _shoulder_?" His voice was low, as though pretending he wasn't talking at all.

She swallowed, looking ahead. "It hurts... All in all I've been better," Gabriella muttered, looking up at him earnestly.

"Gab," he almost groaned. "We need to talk about what happened to you with Kingston, _without_ the distracting influence of alcohol."

"I don't want to talk about it, besides, there's nothing to say... I just want to go to the party and have some fun for once, and forget about it all..."

Troy smiled slightly, though he looked slightly disconcerted, and nodded. There was silence for a moment. "Okay..." He suddenly grinned. "So, are you going to the staff party _after-_party?"

"There's a party _after _the staff party?" Gabriella giggled, feeling skeptical.

Troy's smiled was much more relaxed once she laughed. "Believe it or not, yeah. Paul's hosting it at his house, meaning they'll be alcohol. Should be wild."

"If it's at Paul's then yeah, obviously... Are you going then, to the wild afterparty?" Gabriella tried not to lose her balance as she had been stood for so long.

"If you are. That was the deal, right?"

Gabriella smiled at him, touched, but inside, she was still pissed with the universe for landing her in this situation. "Right."

"Gabi! Time to go, honey," came Gabriella's mothers' voice with a laugh. Gabriella instantly looked away from Troy and blushed scarlet.

"Alright mom." Gabriella carefully walked away, trying to walk as straight and normally as possible while she knew Troy could be walking.

"See you later, Troy."

When she looked back, he was smiling crookedly––beautifully––following his mother, carrying her basket. "Laters, Gab."

After throwing all her clothing everywhere, Gabriella resorted to wearing the first outfit of all those she had tried on. She felt comfortable in the short––but not too short––royal blue lace dress and matching heels. It was bright and fun, and pretty. Once her usual party make up was done––eyes lined with cat flicks, blush, slight eyeshadow and red lipstick––she took off her glasses, putting in her contacts quickly, her nervousness causing her to swear and struggle when applying them. She quickly packed her small handbag with essentials and walked downstairs. Her long hair was down, but she carried an elastic for it on her wrist, always prepared for the worst.

"You look lovely, Gabi," Maria spoke kindly as she picked up her car keys. "You ready to go?"

Gabriella looked down at herself, doubting her mothers compliment. "Yeah. Ready as I'll ever be."

Gabriella's stomach was twisting with nerves to the point where it was painful. Combine that with the butterflies and Gabriella felt as though she was going to be sick. Damn her nerves, they always did get the best of her. Her hands were clammy as she rang them in her lap in the passenger seat of her mothers car. So help her god, she couldn't wait to get drunk and finally let loose a little.

"So, you're going to the Londoners house after the staff party?" Maria Montez' voice sounded, breaking the mist of anxiety that Gabriella had been getting lost in.

"Yeah," Gabriella replied, trying not to let her nerves leak into her voice. "I'll probably end up going to Emily's house to sleep..." Gabriella lied neutrally, as in reality she had little if any idea where she'd be by midnight, having a good time she hoped.

"As long as I know where you are then I don't mind," Maria said softly as they pulled up outside Lava Springs. Once the car was stationary, Maria turned to her daughter, a soft, kind look in her eyes. "Have a good time honey," she smiled. "You look beautiful."

Gabriella half-smiled, feeling her nerves ease. "Thanks mom. I'll text you, okay?"

Slowly, Gabriella slid off her seat as she opened her door, feeling extra wobbly as her balance was even less than it usually was.

"Bye, mom," Gabriella called, smiling as her mother called a similar farewell before pulling away. Gabriella felt her breathing increase slightly as she stood, looking at the beautifully classy Lava Springs entrance, her clammy fingers gripped her bag. As she took a few steps, she was suddenly very conscious of others arriving, and how their eyes trailed her, watching the way she walked, but also with a hint of disbelief. This made Gabriella irritated.

_Yes, _she wanted to confront them. _Yes, I can look good if I try. I'm not just the weird disabled girl. _She wanted so much to tell them and their stares where to go, but, of course, she didn't have the guts.

Slowly, Gabriella walked inside the front entrance, giving her name, then made her way into the ballroom where the staff party was being held. She made a point of walking as straight as possible, pointing her feet outward as she took each step, instead of their usual inward position. Heels made her posture better, believe it or not, as it made the arch in her back, that was usually exaggerated and deeper than an ordinary person's, less deep, and so her butt didn't stick out so much. Generally, heels helped, except lack of a centre of balance meant that she was a lot more susceptible to falling over.

Taking each step at a time, Gabriella reached the door of the ballroom, and quickly scanned for familiar faces, trying to bury her panic. To her, nothing was worse than a room full of strangers her own age. In such a situation, she always seemed to flail like a fish.

"Gabi!" Emily emerged from the dance floor, grinning in her usual manner, and Gabriella felt her heart sink slightly. She was clad in a beautiful skintight dress, which consisted of a sky blue silk bodice, covered with black lace and black lace sleeves. It was short, showing off her athletic legs and black killer heels. Her brown hair curled perfectly, blue eyes sparkling. She was _beyond _pretty, and thin, and confident. She was...well, everything Gabriella wasn't. How did she ever think she has a chance?

"Hey," Gabriella replied, happy to see a familiar face, as she received her friends' hug gratefully.

"Oh my freakin' _god, _you look _amazing. _This bright blue is great on you!" Emily was practically squealing her words with pure enthusiasm. Gabriella floundered for a sufficient reply.

"Thanks," she managed, shyly. "You look amazing. I love your dress."

Emily grinned, mischief evident in her eyes. "Just wait until Bolton sees you."

Gabriella rolled her lined eyes. "Whatever."

Suddenly, there was a loud voice closing in over the music. "Gabi, Gabi, Gabi, _Gabaaay._" Paul, the crazy Londoner, leaped in between the two girls, hyper as ever. "Woah," Paul exclaimed at the sight of Gabriella. He placed a hand on his heart, faking a very overdramatic heart attack. "You scrub up good," Paul laughed in his classic cottony tongue.

Gabriella blushed further, now highly anticipating a certain male's appearance.

"Dance with me!" Emily called, grabbing the nervous brunette's hand. Gabriella was about to reluctantly accept, when a voice rose from behind them.

"What's up guys?"

Troy Bolton was walking towards them in a crisp black button-down shirt and dark jeans. He also wore a very skinny blue tie, the colour of his eyes. Simple, but incredibly effective, Gabriella noted. His usually hair, that was regularly fell all over the place, was quaffed into a fifties style curl at the front. His usually messy locks appeared to have been trimmed, Gabriella realised. It had definitely been longer earlier that day in the supermarket. She smiled slightly, hiding how hot and flustered she felt in his presence. With this new hair he somehow appeared even more attractive than usual, if that was possible.

"Hey!" Troy said as he neared us, his smile in full mega-watt mode. Gabriella had to concentrate to keep from swooning.

"Bolton! Glad you could finally join us," Emily smirked.

Troy rolled his eyes, still grinning. "Great to see you too, Andy."

There was silence on Gabriella's part, as she had no idea what to say, not wanting to sound desperate. Emily seemed to notice, and the mischievous glint in her eye only got more dominant. Gabriella was suddenly nervous. What was Emily going to do?

"Paul, I think I just saw them bring out more pink jello, let's go."

Paul whooped. "_Yees_! Pink jell––hey wait, it's not jell-_o, _it's jell-_y." _As always, he choice to be classically hilarious and overdramatic. "Why must you Americans tarnish my countries language this way?_"_

Emily snorted, rolling her eyes as he trailed after her. "Whatever, English. I want me some jello."

"It's _jelly."_

As their arguing voices trailed as they weaved through the ever-increasing amounts of Lava Springs staff, Gabriella was laughing at them, Troy along with her.

"Paul's so crazy," Gabriella murmured to herself.

When she raised her gaze, Troy was smiling at her. "Hey."

"Hey." Wow, what conversation.

"You feeling better this evening?" he asked, smirking knowingly.

Gabriella grumbled. "No," she said stubbornly, her voice small.

"Hmm," Troy hummed thoughtfully, rubbing his index finger along his lower lip. "Didn't think so," he chuckled.

Gabriella noticed how his eyes was an even brighter blue than usual, brought out by the contrasting colour of his black shirt. As he smoothed his finger over his chin, she noted how he had numerous wristbands on his wrist, some made of plastic, others of black leather. They suited him, gave him more of an 'indie' look. Gabriella sighed. How could it be that she had managed to fall for him so quickly, yet their every meeting felt almost as though they were starting over, that they had just met? Life felt so muddled with him around, yet sharp and spontaneous.

"Wow, this party is already boring me," Troy said, amused as ever.

Gabriella felt a stab of something foreign in her chest at his words as his mouth dropped open slightly. "Well thanks a bunch," she snapped quietly. "I'm sorry I'm so boring, Bolton. Perhaps you should find some blonde to dance with or something," she shrugged, speaking slightly bitterly.

That got his attention. His gaze instantly snapped to meet hers as soon as he realised he may have offended her.

"Ouch... Gabriella," he spoke carefully. "You know I didn't mean it like that."

Suddenly, Gabriella smirked at him. "Gotcha!"

This time it was Troy's turn to let his jaw drop slightly, but he quickly recovered himself. "Don't do that!" he scolded playfully. "I can't tell when you're joking."

Gabriella laughed. "Ditto!"

Troy watched Gabriella intently, his lips twisted as he narrowed his gaze playfully.

"Drink?"

Gabriella gulped down a breath of air to try and relax in his presence. "Any alcohol?"

Troy smiled. "No, not here. Though there's plenty at Paul's for later... It seems you forget drinking under twenty-one is illegal in the US."

"I'm not forgetful, I just can't find the sense to care. At least not today. I want to get drunk out of my mind, do some crazy shit... Just once, forget everything and have..._fun, _you know?"

Troy was biting his lip, trying to refrain from surprised laughter. "If I remember correctly from last night, your tipsy side is brazen... Tonight could be interesting, Miss Montez."

Gabriella felt excited for what was to come, though could feel slight anxiety nudge at her demeanour. She must have let it show on her face, because Troy's face suddenly softened. "Hey," he called to her softly, a hand touching her arm for a moment. She looked her to meet his gaze. "Just fun tonight, Gab, nothing bad's going to happen. I won't let it. Our last hurrah before school starts on Monday..."

That was the subtle reassurance Gabriella needed. She smiled. "Okay."

Troy turned at the sound of their crazy friends calling for the two to join them on the dance floor. "C'mon," he murmured. Gabriella grinned at Emily from across the room, walking quickly past Troy, suddenly anxious to get dancing.

"C'mon yourself slow coach!" she called over her shoulder. As she made her way onto the now crowded dance floor, she no longer cared so much for how she walked different from everyone else. She just let herself blend into the crowds of young people, also moving to the music. In that second, she felt strong hands catch her hips as she made her way deeper into the throngs of people. She yelped, which caused Paul in front of her to burst out laughing. Troy's fingers curled to grip her hips from behind, and Gabriella felt her inexperience inner-conscience sing the hallelujah chorus, turning to her head to her left to see his face. His had his classic crooked smile on his face, with a hint of innocent mischief in his eyes. _Oh_, Gabriella thought. _What an oxymoron._

"Excuse me," Gabriella spoke shyly, trying not to laugh. "I'm trying to dance."

Troy smiled, the mischief in his eyes contagious as he brought his arms to lock all the way round her waist. His low chuckle rumbled through her back as he lifted her off the floor. More compulsive squealing followed, and Troy laughed too.

"Troy, stop!" Gabriella giggled, as he set her down, but then turned on him and slapped his chest. "Asshole!" she scolded loudly over the music, but with a glint in her eye that almost matched his.

Emily suddenly leaped in between them. "Dance with me Gabriella, god damn it! They'll be time for lover-boy later." Both girls giggled loudly, which transcended into fits of laughter. Troy rolled his eyes and moved to high five Paul, leaving Gabriella to have some fun with all the rest of the girls from the staff. After all, it seemed a rare thing for her. He looked over his shoulder at her dancing, moving in her own unique way, and smiled at the fact how Gabriella appeared more and more relaxed with every passing minute. It warmed his heart, which surprised Troy a little. He hadn't expected to feel this way. Not at all.

"Oi!" came Paul's voice, and a moment later, so did the blow from his hand onto the back of Troy's head.

"Dude! What?" Troy astounded, blinking at his London friend, bewildered.

Paul gave him a deadpanned look. "Naffin, mate, naffin," he said a moment letter, trying to remain complacent.

Troy swallowed and turned back to his dancing friends, choosing to shake his head.

An interesting beginning to an interesting evening.

༻༺

Driving to Paul's house in Troy's truck was something Gabriella never thought she would be able to experience, yet, here she was. He was whistling along to the radio, which hummed quietly, a huge contrast to the great volume of the music that had been playing back at Lava Springs.

"Are you alright?" Troy's voice broke through the serenity of the quiet. There was the soft whisper of the air rushing past the truck as the windows were wound down.

"Yes," Gabriella turned to look at him. "Eager to get some alcohol in me quite honestly."

Troy's chuckled as he turned into Paul's drive, his eyes bright, his fifties quiff still in place.

"Well," he said, as he parked and cut the engine, turning in his seat. "Let's go get drunk."

Gabriella laughed, nodded enthusiastically, her inner goddess flipping and somersaulting in celebration of what may be to come. "Yes, let's!"

Troy's blue eyes were crinkled at the edges as he laughed some more, quickly getting out to open Gabriella's door. As she stepped out, he offered his hand, then caught her as she almost fell. "Gab, _honestly,_" Troy teased. "Watch where you put your feet. I don't want you breaking your neck on those things," he said of her heels.

"You ain't seen nothing yet, Bolton," she said dryly.

He raised his dark, thick, articulate-looking eyebrows. "Nothing?"

Gabriella grinned and giggled as he smirked. "Nothing," she mouthed.

༻༺

The music was loud and the bass was low, vibrating through the furniture of the rooms. It was late, really late, and Gabriella was beyond giggly. The alcohol she had consumed was enough to make her happy, but not ill, she was suddenly craving Troy. She had barely seen him as she purposely being trying to avoid him until she'd drank enough alcohol to make her brave. Now, however, she did feel brave enough, and she was busy giggling some more with Emily when she spotted him. He was drinking a beer, walking out towards the backyard. As quickly as she could, she followed him. He turned, smiling lopsidedly.

"Gab," he uttered, reaching forward to help her through the door. Together they sat down on the nearest bench, Gabriella sober enough to remember to leave a polite gap between them. Troy smiled lazily, keeping quiet, then suddenly he looked at the space between the two of them and frowned. "What're you doing all the way over there?" he asked, as though it was an outrage.

Gabriella instantly closed the gap between them, thriving in the feeling of their thighs pressed against each others.

"On a bench again, Miss Montez," he said, slightly stumbling over the 's's and 'z's in her name.

Her mind suddenly flashed back to the incident at Lava Springs with the champagne cork that hit her square in the face. Instinctively, she reached up and touched her nose, then laughed. "Yeah... I think I'm starting to like benches."

"Is your nose okay now?"

Gabriella looked at him, feeling brave. "Does it look okay?"

The bruising was virtually gone now, and Gabriella had covered the remainder of it with make up. He nodded, leaning in to kiss, surprising them both.

He was warm, and Gabriella suddenly watched her own hand reach over and poke him in his chest when he leant back. He caught her hand as she giggled and went to pull away. His intense look stopped her in her tracks, so she took a swig of her beer to try and remain distracted.

"You look very pretty tonight," he said, quite openly.

Gabriella eyed him skeptically. "Thanks."

"Hey now, I mean it! Why don't you believe, Gabriell-ell-ella?" he chuckled to himself, then grabbed her hand in his and held it, his face suddenly inches from hers. "Why don't you ever believe me?"

Gabriella would usually instantly make space if anyone came this close, but her reflexes had slowed. "Because no one has ever deserved my belief before, or bothered to fight for it, and every time I've believed in someone like you who's complimented me like you do, I've been let down and stamped on." She realised she was whispering as she shared information she'd never told a guy before.

He reached forward, running a hand down the side of her face.

"Well forget them, Gabriella-ell-ella." She grinned at his playfulness. "I mean what I say, and _I_ say, you're the most cutest, most wonderful girl here tonight."

Gabriella suddenly couldn't contain her giggles. "Shut up, shut up!" She paused, running a hand through her long hair. "I do believe, Mr Bolton, that that was bad grammar."

He was suddenly playful again, raising his eyebrows in mock disbelief. "Did you just tell me to shut up?"

Gabriella smiled definitely. "Oh, I'm sorry. I meant, Shut the _fuck_ up," she confirmed with a excessively sweet smile.

Gabriella could see a planned being hatched behind his eyes. "Right you!" he growled, causing Gabriella to squeal, kicking off her heels behind her and running back into the house barefoot, and into the deafening living room. Troy was on her tail, yet she managed to squeeze between the bodies to the middle of the makeshift dance floor. Troy, however, was not far behind. He squeezed past the bodies and watched Gabriella from behind as she moved to the music on the spot. It was an upbeat anthem type track, and Troy let himself fall into rhythm behind her. She turned and grinned at him when she realised he was dancing. "Hey!" she called, faking annoyance. "I'm trying to dance over here!"

Later, Gabriella wanted some quiet, so she found herself wondering up the stairs to Paul's room, where half the guys had thrown their overnight bags and belongings. Her back was aching from standing on her feet dancing for so long, and she knew that by the morning she'd have muscle knots there because of her bad posture. She took a fresh beer and stumbled into Paul's room, sitting down in amongst the many duvets and sleeping bags. She took of her shoes with a sigh, and lay against the softness behind her lazily, quietly laughing at herself. Not knowing how long she had been laying there, she was surprised when she heard another body stumble through the door.

"There she is!" came Troy's voice, as though to someone else.

"Here I am!" Gabriella giggled, lifting her arms out either side of her body.

Troy came and sat down beside her, with a beer bottle and a bottle-opener. Gabriella took the bottle-opener from him and attempted to open his beer. She missed the bottle completely the first time, and put the opener in the wrong position the second. Troy cracked up with laughter like a young child, causing Gabriella to do the same. "What're you doing? C'm'ere, I'll do it," he murmured, but then laughed when she refused to give the beer back to him.

"I wan' it," she smirked, holding the ice cold glass bottle to her chest and leaning away from him.

Troy's jaw dropped slightly. "It's mine!" He leaned over, trying to take the beer from her. She squealed, falling onto her back on another sleeping bag as his body pressed against hers. She held the bottle above her head, out of his reach, and he growled from somewhere deep in his chest.

"Give it."

She laughed more. "Never."

"Give me my beer," he laughed.

"Not until you say please!"

Suddenly, Troy stopped reaching, and looked down as Gabriella with hooded eyes. Suddenly he kissed her quickly, backing away only a milimetre. There was a crooked smile on his face, and Gabriella felt a tug deep in her stomach. His blue eyes were bright and carefree, contrasting greatly with his expressive dark eyebrows.

"Please," he whispered.

Gabriella swallowed, the alcohol making her feel brave. She placed the beer into his hand, as his other hand slowly traced her cheek in a soft caress. "Troy," she spoke, causing him to smile wider.

"Yes, Gabriella?" His nose touched hers.

Before she could even consider her words, they had already left her mouth. "Kiss me."

Troy's eyebrows rose, her words taking him by surprise. Even when drunk, Troy was slightly disconcerted by her boldness, though pretended to not hear her. "Pardon me?"

She swallowed, feeling suddenly shy and embarrassed to have asked. "I said...kiss––"

His lips were suddenly on hers, cutting off her bashful ramblings. His hand slowly touched her face, and the other curled into her hair. His breath was hot over her face, and she felt herself kissing back, or at least she thought she was. She wasn't sure if she was doing it right. Troy's lips kept a slow, gentle rhythm, a groan erupting from his lips, and Gabriella slowly slid her fingers up his chest as he pressed them both into the softness of the sleeping bags beneath them. Slowly his lips trailed down to her chin and along her jaw.

"Troy," she uttered in a moment of clarity, as he carried on his sweet assault. "What're...we doing?"

He lifted his head to look at the brunette under him. "Makin' out."

She couldn't resist the sloppy grin that crossed her features. "No shit, Sheeerlock." He hummed an appreciative sound, his eyes sparked, as he nudged her nose with his, nipping at her lower lip, cheekily, before kissing the corner of her mouth.

"I like it when you swear," he murmured gruffly, his voice low and graveled and beautiful. Giggles erupted from Gabriella's chest.

"I like to swear... I also like it when _you_ swear..."

He leaned down so his lips could easily brush hers. "What was that now?" he whispered. "Miss' Montez, you motherfuckin beguile me. How the fucking hell are you doin' this?"

She didn't really understand what he was saying about being beguiled, but she guessed it was the alcohol. She was so endeared by his actions that she leant up and captured his lower lip between her own teeth. He growled again, a deep primal sound. She pulled back and laid her head back down against the sleeping bag, giggling. "I like that sound."

He smiled, relaxed, and fell into place next to her on the sleeping bags. "Well, I like _that _sound," he murmured, referring to her laughter.

She suddenly sighed, alcohol causing more obvious mood changes. "What're we doing, Troy?"

He was looking at her as she looked low, away from him. "I don't know, Gab. What do you want us to be doin'?"

She looked up, not expecting him to ask her her own wishes.

"I like this..." she muttered, bashful, running a hand down his chest. She knew he was already laughing at her.

"But...?" he predicted.

"I'm just nervous... I've never...I don't know how––"

"Hey," he smiled, pressing his index finger to her lips, slightly wonky because of his alcohol affected movements. "You're always nervous, so freakin' nervous...But it's okay. There's no pressure... I don' mind whether we do anythin' or not. I just like...bein' with you."

She smiled, genuinely touched. "You do? You're not lyin' to me?"

"No lyin.'" he chuckled, his slightly slurred speech endearing.

Gabriella closed her eyes. "You're so different than I thought you'd be."

A chuckle erupted from where Troy lay. "Wha'do you mean?" he asked as he rolled up to lean on his elbow, looking at her tentatively.

"Well, of all the times I've imagined bein' in this situation with you..."

Troy raised a thick, dark eyebrow, even though she couldn't see him. "You've imagined this?" he asked, his voice low as though her couldn't quite believe it.

A flush of deep pink spread up Gabriella's neck and face as she became bashful again. "No..." she mumbled, disbelieving of her own confession, covering her closed eyes with her hands.

Troy slowly leant forward and down until his forehead pressed against her temple. "Tell me..."

Gabriella remained quiet.

"Talk to me," he murmured, pleading, his breath against her ear.

Gabriella's heart was hammering. She couldn't quite believe what was happening. What had she done to deserve such attention from such a gentle and beautiful person. She couldn't find the words or the reason to lie for her own egos sake, so chose not to. "I've never been kissed, or _liked_ even, by any guy before. That was my cousin's thing, always. My beautiful, flirty, confident cousin. Not me. Never me."

Troy suddenly closed his eyes, feeling her turmoil of emotions affecting him too. Sympathy coursed through him. "Ambi Bambi," he whispered in realisation, remembering the conversation the two of them had had not too long ago in which Gabriella had informed him of how West High's most infamous cheerleader, Amber, or 'Ambi Bambi,' was in fact her cousin.

"Yeah," Gabriella sighed sadly, eyes still closed. "She may not be a nice girl now, but she used to be... She hasn't always been a bitch, so I believe she may grow out of it, an'...feel like..._that's _the kind of girl you should be with. Someone who's kind but fits your life..." Gabriella swallowed, feeling suddenly tearful and breathless. "You deserve someone beautiful."

Troy was frowning, confusion and concern for Gabriella invading his thoughts. What had brought this on?

"Gab, what's this about?" he whispered, dropping a reassuring kiss on the shell of her ear.

Gabriella could feel her grip on her train of thought waning, alcohol taking hold. She opened her eyes, which were threatening to moisten to the point of tears, and stared at the ceiling, not brave enough to look at him. "I'm so over-optimistic in love, Troy, an' I can't risk this... I'm not brave enough to give someone like you, someone so, so different from me, someone so successful and popular and sort-after, have my heart. I can't––"

"––Gabriella," he whispered, "Please, Gabriella, trust me." He leant up, looking down into her face, locking their gaze. His blue eyes were dark with intensity. "Trust me. You're so much more than you realise...and the fact you can't see that, just...makes you even more great." Suddenly he is laughing as Gabriella wrinkled her nose at his words, embarrassed to have to take his compliments. "I'm no wizard of words like you," he said lowly, "but I need you to know that how you see yourself is'not how others see you." He moved his fingers to caress her face. "I think you're beautiful, an' though I may not be brave enough to say it as much without a deadly 'mount of alcohol in me, I want you to know it's true." He leaned forward, letting Gabriella lean up a little to meet him, though he stopped short enough to whisper, "Hundred per cent true."

Gabriella was fluttering, but also feeling brave as he lifted her hands to his neck again. Troy pressed a gentle kissed to her lips, then raised his face to whisper. "`Please give us a chance, Gabriell-ell-ella... Give me a chance... I _want _to be your first relationship." They both crackled up with giggles as he struggled with the word, but Troy desperately tried to sober his in order to speak. "There's no pressure here, Gab. I'm not gonna' to be expectin..._anythin_'. We can go slow––_snail pace_... Jus', please, give us a chance..."

Gabriella felt as though he should be addressing someone else. "Are you..." she gulped, "askin' me to be..." she rubbed her forehead innocently, "your girlfriend?"

Troy smiled crookedly, running a hand through her hair. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Why?" Gabriella asked innocently, her voice almost inaudible.

Troy burst into quiet laughter, shaking his head as his eyes brightened. "I just told you! Will you ever listen?" Suddenly he was serious again. "Let me show you why. Tell me you will," he pleaded, his gaze burning deep into Gabriella's eyes. He had the look of a pleading, stunningly beautiful puppy, and Gabriella felt her desire to say yes overriding her anxiety and fear of the consequences. She bit her lip to conceal a giggle at his expression.

Gabriella shut her eyes tight, then they snapped open and rolled skyward in defeat. "Yes," she sighed, whispering as a tidal wave of butterflies rolled and flipped in the pit of her stomach.

"Yes?" Troy asked, his voice raising an octave, arching his brow.

"Yes, fine, okay, I'll be your girlfriend if I have to," she giggled as she spoke sarcastically. Suddenly she was serious as she sat up, making Troy have to sit up to. "But you have to promise me something."

Troy smiled softly, as though this was nothing, though his eyes were intrigued. "Of course I will promise you something."

"Please only tell me things if you mean them. I don't think I can...I won't be able to tell if you're lyin' to me...I'll take everything you say literally, not that I'll mean to be, so you'll have to mean it... Please don't say things you don't mean, ever, please..." she whispered, slightly slurred, pleading.

Troy brought his arms up, curling a hand around her lower back while his other cupped the back of her head. She ended up above him, basically in his lap, as he tilted his face to almost meet hers.

"Oh baby," he whispered, typically drunk, running a hand through the front of her hair, keeping it from her face. Gabriella heart jumped into her mouth. "I'll never lie to you," he murmured, frowning slightly, a 'V' appearing between his brows. "As I said," he slurred slightly, "No lyin'."

"Promise?" she whispered, her vulnerability surfacing, especially under the influence of alcohol.

Troy slid his arm high up her hand so both his hands held her face, his fingers weaved into his hair as he lifted his face to hers where she sat above him. "I promise."

With that, Gabriella giggled, signifying their serious decision was over, leaning up to peck his lips once. He had leant into it, his eyes closed wistfully, but she pulled away and fell backwards into the sleeping bags, giggling at his bewildered expression when he hadn't given him a real kiss.

"Hey!" he protested, going to lean over her. She was laughing as she suddenly tried to sit up to reach him, though couldn't due to her weak muscles. He laughed, helping her sit up, before retrieving their beers. Gabriella pulled out her phone from her bag, noting the time was past midnight, before unlocking it with clumsy fingers.

"I,' she began, reaching up to touch his smooth, clean-shaven cheek, "want a picture of you." She giggled as he reached over to turn on one of the bedside lights, almost knocking many items over in the process, to make the room slightly brighter.

"Well, I wanna' picture of you," he counteracted, his voice playful as he pulled out his phone also.

"No," Gabriella groaned. "No pictures of me, please," she pouted, so he pouted back. He rolled his eyes, pulling them both to their feet, both shaky.

"I know how we'll settle this," Troy said, then he pointed to the door. "Downstairs." He then bowed low as he reached the door, clumsy because of the drink, letting an equally unsteady Gabriella pass him as he slid his arm around her body for support. "Ladies first!"

༻༺

Mid-morning light, blinding and unforgiving, woke Gabriella from her alcohol induced unconsciousness. Though she had not been drunk enough to pass out, she did not totally remember much of the events of the night before, including falling asleep. She groaned, mumbling a load of incoherent swear words before curling into the unknown warmth that surrounded her. It took a few moments of being semi-conscious for Gabriella to begin to realise reality again. She kept her eyes closed, yet was suddenly conscious of how whatever it was she had her head against was very warm, hot even. She could feel material covering half her body, but not much else. Her forehead muscles were already tense with the beginnings of a headache, and all her joints were achy, her back noticeably knotted and stiff. She groaned involuntarily as she tried to move to regain comfort, failing miserably. Slowly she lifted an eyelid, only for her heart to jump into her mouth at the sight of Troy Bolton, shirtless, next to her, also wrapped in sleeping bags. She looked down at herself with the slightest head movement, only to see she was only clad in a band shirt of some kind that was much too big, and panties.

"_Fuck,_" she groaned in a whisper, suddenly inwardly panicked that she'd done something really stupid, though she honestly couldn't remember so. God, had she done something really rash? Had she had _sex_ with Troy Bolton? Surely not...

Gabriella groaned again at the feeling of total disorientation she was feeling, as well as because of the twisting pain she felt in her back, the muscle spasm just out of her arm's reach. She suddenly felt like crying, overwhelmed by her own sudden stupidity.

"Hey, shh, it's okay," came the surprisingly clear, awake voice of Troy Bolton in a husked tone at her ear. She realised he must have thought she was dreaming, as he was running a hand up and down her arm rhythmically from behind, as though trying to send her back to sleep.

Slowly, she rolled gently onto her back and then onto her other side so she was facing him. His chiseled chest was clearing visible where he lay, glowing with his golden tan, as well as his bulging biceps. His pectorals were firm, along with the sculpturesque washboard abdominals muscles that flexed as he breathed deeply in and out, followed as she looked lower by a delicious looking dark happy trail into the unknown of his boxers...

She stopped herself, and, trying not to drool, she gasped for air.

"Hey," whispered Troy in a husked tone, seemingly oblivious.

"Hey," she replied._ Oh great, back to mono-syllable conversations then! _she thought. She was guarded and quiet, and albeit slightly intimidated by his seemingly 'ideal' athletic body that was on show. She felt totally inadequate next to him, like a podgy, flawed blob.

"Hey, why the frown?" Troy husked in her ear, reaching to tuck a tendril of dark hair behind her ear. She looked up at him, her head still against her makeshift pillow, and his against his own, though their noses were only centimeters apart.

"You have a beautiful body," she murmured almost inaudibly, deciding honesty was going to be the only way forward if they were to go through with whatever it was that they were...

He seemed to shrug, bemused. "I play basketball and like fitness. I don't do it for the looks side... Mostly I barely notice..." He changed tac. "I wouldn't call it beautiful though, not at all..." It was his turn to frown as his palm cupped her jaw. "What's this about?" he asked, his voice gravely as he whispered.

"I just feel..." she paused her whispers to gauge his reaction, "so inadequate next to you."

He shook his head against the sleeping bag. "Well, don't. You have no reason to. If I thought you were no good for me, I'd say so. Besides, you didn't seem so worried last night..."

Gabriella groaned quietly. "Oh god," she whispered. "What did I do?"

He chuckled almost inaudibly. "It wasn't what just _you _did, it was both of us. I think we got a bit giggly..."

Gabriella smiled wide as memories of Troy kissing her in amongst the sleeping bags. Suddenly another moment returned to the forefront of her memory, and her eyes snapped to his.

"You asked me to be your girlfriend," she whispered, leaning further into him, afraid someone would hear.

"Oh yes, I did, didn't I? Very inelegantly though, I must say. We may have to go out next weekend to make up for it..." He rubbed his chest with his hand, looking slightly nervous.

Gabriella smiled. "I still can't really believe it." She frowned, her headache beginning to seriously ruin the lightness of her mood. Her eyes were drooping, wary already from having to cope with the tense pressure building in her forehead and behind her eyes.

Troy noticed her frown, and frowned slightly himself. When he spoke, his voice was a low, seductive murmur, gruff but rich like smooth, sweet honey. "You got a headache, baby?"

_Baby! He's calling me baby... _Gabriella's subconscious shrieked giddily, completely beguiled and enchanted by the term of endearment.

Gently, Troy slid his fingers up her neck to her temples, pressing with his fingertips into the tense flesh there, slowly rubbing in circular motions. The instant his fingers began their relieving motions, Troy watched as Gabriella's eyes closed in sweet relief, her eyes rolling back, as a sigh escaped from her lips.

"I love it when you call me that," she breathed almost inaudibly as he felt herself drifting back to sleep.

Troy smiled softly, also feeling sleepy again, as he carried on circling her temples. She was still smiling sleepily as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her forehead, smoothing her soft raven hair. "Me calling you, what? 'Baby'?"

She nodded lazily, eyes still closed. Troy smiled more, endeared, his face still centimetres from hers. "Good to know," he whispered.

She tried to speak, producing indistinguishable murmurings before curling into the sleeping bag, slightly embarrassed to have made such an admission.

"Hey, don't be embarrassed. I like that you're honest with me."

Gabriella lifted her head a little, catching sight of Troy's beautiful angular jaw. "You deserve it," she mumbled and sighed. "You're always so sweet to me."

As she curled into the polyester of the blue sleeping bag around her, she heard Troy chuckle silently beside her.

"Come here, you," he whispered, pulling Gabriella into his side, so she nuzzled shyly into his warm skin that covered his ribs instead, her head against his chest as he rolled the both of them over onto their sides, cupping the back of her head. He pulled a unzipped sleeping bag over the two of them, basking in the rare content feeling of the moment, knowing it was bound not to last forever.

༻༺

"Turn left here," Gabriella signaled, pointing with her hand. Troy did as she commanded, grinning wolfishly at her at every given opportunity. "You seem a little giddy," she teased as Troy drove her home. "Are you sure you're sober?"

Troy smirked, speaking sarcastically, rolling his ocean eyes. "Gabriella, I drank raw eggs, then went for a run and did a hundred press-ups. I'm sober."

Gabriella giggled, still not able to diminish the smile that had been stretched across her face since she had woken again just after noon. Troy had gone for a run by the time she had finally woken, so she sat listening to Emily talk about the latest guy she had ticked off her 'bang list' the night before until Troy returned and showered.

"You seem quite giddy yourself, Gabriella," Troy remarked in a falsely disapproving voice.

"I know, I'm sorry," she apologised, flushing, embarrassed.

"I'm kidding, dork," he chuckled, shaking his head. Gabriella blushed more, scoffing, pretending to be offended by his comment. She was smiling still, looking out the window to try to hide it, as she suddenly felt a hand on hers which lay in her lap, making her jump.

"We barely know each other," Gabriella giggled as she looked down at their joined hands.

"We have our whole lives, Gabi," he murmured, his eyes on the road. "How many times do I have to say it? There's no rush."

"I know," she sighed, anxiety still simmering at the idea of how the school would react to their 'getting together,' especially when she could barely get her own head around it.

"Hey," he called to her as she gazed down at nothing. "It'll be okay, you'll see."

Gabriella smiled, hoping he was right.

Slowly they pulled into Gabriella's driveway, and Gabriella was relieved to see her mothers car was gone.

_Must have gone somewhere, _Gabriella thought.

"Well," she smiled, turning toward him as she sat on the leather seat in jeans, belonging to Emily, and _his _band t-shirt, "this is me." There was a pause while she plucked up the courage to speak again. "Would you like to come in?"

Troy ran a hand through his shorter, but still tousled hair, smiling genuinely at her shyness. "I'd like that," he said softly. He quickly got out the truck to open her door for her. "You alright?" he checked as she wobbled slightly on her bare feet as she stepped down, heels in hand.

"I'm fine," she assured, purely by default, as she tried to walk quickly so he couldn't get a good look at her feet, which she considered to be disgusting. "I'm always wobbly."

Troy smiled, taking her by the waist to walk her inside. "Nothing wrong with that."

"Says the guy with perfect agility."

Troy shook his head at her, tusking, as she reached and unlocked the front door, letting them both in.

There was a note from her mother in the kitchen, stating she had gone out to visit a friend and would be back early evening. Troy followed behind her, regarding her intently as she dropped her hells from her hand onto the wood floor while still reading the note.

"What time is it?" she asked quietly, and quickly Troy pulled his phone from his pocket to check. It was off, so he waited for it to boot. Once it had, he looked down at it to inform her of the time and stopped in his tracks.

"What?" she asked, suddenly filled with anxiety and dread all over again.

"Uh..." Suddenly he was laughing. "Oh, wow. Neither of are particularly attractive drunk."

Gabriella felt herself choke on air, with both fear and intrigue. "What? No!" Gabriella circled him, gripping his arm for balance as she looked over him at the phone, suddenly seeing what he was talking about.

Drunk photos.

_ Shit!_

"Oh god," she groaned, dropping a head to his shoulder. "Don't look at me, I look awful."

He was still laughing. "I remember now. I insisted I take a photo of you as my wallpaper, but you refused to have one taken on your own..." He looked down at her hidden face. "I seem to remember you did the same of me on your phone."

She groaned again, realising she had yet to charge her phone before she could see if this was true.

"We both look like we've seen better days," he chuckled, taking the opportunity to put an arm around her where she gripped his arm.

"Yes, we really do. I more than you," she giggled, suddenly feeling the desire to hug him close for comfort.

There was content silence as they hugged in the middle of the kitchen. Gabriella shifted, trying not to groan with discomfort.

"Are you okay?" he murmured, frowning in confusion.

She shook her head after a moment. "My back," she murmured, not bothering to elaborate as she didn't know how to describe the affects her disability had on her back muscles. She attempted to jump onto the counter to sit, and after one attempt, Troy assisted her with his strong arms. She blushed, thanking him.

"Heels may help my posture, but standing up for so long takes it's toll," she explained. "I hate muscle knots," she rotated, pressing the knuckles of her clenched fist into her lower back.

"Let me help you," he began, but she soon stopped him.

"Thanks, but I'm fine. I don't want you involved in this stuff."

Troy was bemused, and slightly irritated as he _wanted _to help her, but he let it go.

After a moment, Troy nodded, leaning up to kiss her cheek softly, pulling her body closer to him wear he stood in front of the counter. He looked down at his phone as he felt it suddenly buzz almost repeatedly, revealing notification after notification. Then, text after text.

He frowned, murmuring, "What the hell?"

Suddenly, a text from a more familiar name, Chad Danforth, appeared, and Troy, god knows why, chose to read that one first.

_What the hell did u do? _ it said.

_Wtf is this? Plz tell me this is a joke..._

And there, under the words, was a picture message, of Troy kissing Gabriella's forehead as he made a crazy face, he wearing just his jeans and his blue skinny tie tied around his head, while Gabriella was wearing _his_ black shirt with blue cuffs on top of nothing but underwear, at least by the looks of it. It was buttoned, covering her stomach, but her bra, tan lace, was visible.

"Shit..." Gabriella cursed, now looking at his phone as well, seeing the photo. "Where the hell is that from?"

Troy exited the message and took a look at the source of all his notifications, closing his eyes in disbelief as he did so.

"What?" she asked at the sight of is expression. "What? Troy, what is it?"

"Facebook," he said, softly, shaking his head in disbelief, remembering. "We uploaded them to Facebook."

Suddenly, Gabriella could remember feeling giddy at the thought of Troy Bolton uploading a photo of the two of them, by _choice, _onto his Facebook. There hadn't just been one either, there had been plenty. All uploaded for everyone to see, and all before they had had chance to get their wits together.

Gabriella's light mood was shattered, as though it had all been an illusion. Anxiety took hold again. Suddenly, she felt physically sick.

"It's okay," he whispered. "I'll sort it," he murmured, looking up at Gabriella's anxious face. "Hey," he smiled. "Don't look so afraid. They're not that bad, trust me I've seen a lot worse before of other people..."

He leant up and kissed her once, a slow deliberate movement as their lips touched.

Suddenly he was chuckling.

"What?" she asked, though she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

"You looked good in my dress-shirt, Miss Gabriella," he murmured against her lips. He watched,delighted, as she blushed three different shades of red, hiding her face. He laughed, until his eyes settled on a set of books of the counter. He picked up the top one, regarding it for a moment.

"_'Fifty Shades of Grey'_?" he enquired slowly, disbelieving. "Gabriella, surely this isn't yours?"

She smirked despite her sustained blush. "Yes it _is _mine, I've read all three, and no, it's not just soft porn," she said in defense of the piece of literature. Troy was biting his lip, desperately trying not to crease up with laughter. "It's not!" she defended, frustrated as he continued to laugh. "Urgh, what would you know, stupid jock," she muttered as she sulked stubbornly, crossing her arms.

He neared her again, placing his hands on her folded arms. "I like me a girl that appriciates literature," he murmured, then added, "and soft porn," with a laugh at her murderous expression.

He suddenly reached up to kiss his square on the mouth, but found they both melted into the kiss, causing an embrace. Troy placed the book back on the side, holding her face between his hands above his. "Keep safe," he murmured as he pulled away. "I have to go," he murmured, kissing her cheek once. "I'll text you, okay?" As he turned to grab his bag, his suddenly span round again on his heels. "You can keep that t-shirt by the way," he smirked, and Gabriella flushed as she looked down and realised she was indeed still wearing his band shirt he had leant her to sleep in.

"Thanks," she said in a small voice, busying herself with turning to grab a banana.

She could hear his footsteps nearing the exit to the kitchen, his high-tops squeaking against the wood panels. Suddenly he turned, though she didn;t look up at first.

"Oh and Gabriella?" he called, and she looked up, her gaze locking with his from across the kitchen. He paused, as though contemplating whether or not to say what he was going to. He seemed to change his mind, and instead smirked and jutted his chin out in a masculine, yet simple nod of respect. "I really had fun," then he flashed her an amused and breaktakingly beautiful crooked smile. He leant forward, a mischievous glint in his eye. "'Laters, Baby'," he called, and he began laughing to himself instantly as Gabriella's jaw hit the floor the moment those two words, a well-known quote from _"Fifty Shades of Grey'_, left his mouth.

She couldn't find a witty enough quote to reply in time, as she heard the front door close, followed soon by the rumbling of his truck engine.

Though she was afraid about the photos online, she couldn't stop smiling as his cheeky attitude.

So he _had _read_ 'Fifty Shades,' _yet he'd still teased her._ The bastard!_

She picked up her copy and smirked. If he thought her owning a controversial book was unusual, then he was in for a few surprises.

113


	16. So Much You Don't Know

A/N: WHAT'S UPPPP? I'm on a role, so, here's the next one!

PLEASE REVIEW! I NEEEEED YOUR FEEDBACK - OH, and Happy Independence Day to any Americans out there! :')

PEACE & LOVE  
>x x x STARSWalkBACKWARD x x x<p>

P.S.  
>Oh and, by the way, check out the cover of this story. I made it in photoshop. It's only a quick job, but I thought it fits the story pretty well :)<p>

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Troy Bolton... (Shame, I know.)

* * *

><p><strong>So Much You Don't Know<strong>

"Is it wrong that I miss you already?"

Troy Bolton's deep chuckle erupted from down the clear phone line, causing Gabriella to descend into laughter as well.

"I'm beginning to think so." Gabriella could practically see his smile as she listen to him chuckle. "The amount I miss you," he began, stumbling slightly. "It's not healthy."

Gabriella was glad he wasn't there to see her wolfish grin, and deep scarlet blush, as her breath practically halted completely. She huffed slightly, taken by surprise. "You really," she swallowed, trying again. "You really shouldn't say things like that, Troy. We barely know each other."

Her heartbeat had increase to about a hundred miles per hour as she listened wistfully to him chuckle down the line again. "You deserve to hear the truth, Gabi," he said as though it were obvious. "You just don't know how to believe it."

"I _can't_ believe it, Troy," she murmured, almost sure she couldn't bare anymore compliments over the phone, as they were making her want to, for lack of a better word, pounce on him. She curled up on her bed, in all the comfort of her pajamas, smiling. She still hadn't plucked up the courage to turn on her, now charged, phone to see the inevitable texts and notifications that would arise from the drunk photos of her and Troy.

"I daren't turn on my phone, you know," Gabriella murmured into the receiver.

Troy sighed slightly. "If I were you I'd just do it now. Rip off the band aid."

Gabriella gulped against the pillow under her. "I daren't," she whispered. "Please do it for me."

"I wish I could," he replied. "But honestly, I think you should. Just, just do it now."

"Oh, fuck it," she muttered, deciding not to be coward. He laughed at her cursing. So, she found herself doing just that. Opening a new webpage on her laptop, she proceeded, with a deep intake of breath, to open Facebook. She let the silence drag on as it loaded, and it was revealed that Gabriella had fifteen notifications, which was more than she could ever usual have hoped for from her Facebook friends.

"Woah," Gabriella breathed, suddenly hugely frightened that social-network bullying may be happening to her all over again.

"Woah, what?" There was silence. "Gabi," he uttered gently, with an unnecessary sense of urgency. "Woah what?"

"I have quite a lot of notifications," she murmured, her voice a soft monotone. "More than I've ever had at once, actually."

"Gabi," Troy murmured in a sweet, dulcet tone. "You don't have to answer any of it. It's just social crap..." When there was no sound on the brunette's end of the line, Troy swallowed, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration. "Gabi, are you there?"

"I'm here," she murmured, nonchalant. Slowly she clinked on the red notifications icon, causing a list to appear. Just as Gabriella had feared, the notifications were all comments from people she barely knew, as well as those she _did_ know well, such as Taylor McKessie. She wasn't going to look, but then found her curiosity got the better of her as she clicked on what some of the jocks had to say in their comment on a photo 'she was tagged in' by Troy Bolton. It was a photo of Troy gangster dancing with his tie on his head and no shirt, with an arm around an alien brunette wearing his black and blue shirt, which was much too big. The girl had dark smoky make up still in tact, though her skin was not as well buffed and covered as before. She looked drunk, most definitely, as she made a rock symbol with her fingers at the camera, sticking out her tongue. One thing Gabriella noticed most though was she most definitely did not look like herself. This girl in the photos was alien to the girl sat on her bed in her pajamas.

Even though she told herself otherwise, she found herself glancing down at some of the comments, and she instantly wished she hadn't.

'_Haha, what the fuck is with this? Some people's standards are way too low these days.' _was one.

_'Way to go, Bolton - tap that spaz!' _was another.

They went on, some from 'innocent' acting bitchy girls, some from curious, flirty cheerleaders, but most were, of course, from other jocks. Gabriella felt her throat suddenly tighten with unshed tears as her eyes began fill. Hastily she didn't bother with the rest and exited the window, slamming the laptop shut. It was then she realised that she hadn't spoken down the phone for quite a few moments.

"Gabi?" came Troy's dulcet murmur right on queue.

"Wow, people are mean," she breathed, tearful. His voice seemed to be a bitter-sweet catalyst, because just as he had spoken, Gabriella felt her self control slip just enough for her breathing to speed, and tears began to spill.

Troy must have been able to hear, because a moment later he seemed slightly panicked. "Gabriella, are you crying?" She sniffled, trying to find words. "No, please don't. Not tears. They don't deserve your tears..." He trailed off, suddenly remembering how two weeks ago he had held her while she cried because of Sharpay's doing, even though he had only really just met her. Now he felt that same longing to take away her sorrow with comfort and warmth, only this time it was a hundred times stronger.

"I'm sorry. I don't know if I can do this... I have to go," she muttered, not wanting to cry over the phone to him. It seemed somehow inappropriate. Suddenly she was frightened that this whole stupid thing with Troy, whatever it was, may just be too much for her to handle, especially if jocks with no morale were going to get involved like this. She was already becoming to attached to Troy Bolton as it was, so knew that soon she was going to have to put her feelings aside and make an informed decision as to what path she took at this stage in her life, because she knew once it was chosen, there would be no going back.

"Gab––" Troy began.

"Please, don't. I don't want to do this, especially not over the phone. I need to sleep it off..." She sniffed again, rubbing her eyes.

"Gabi," Troy tried again, sounding lost.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Troy. 'Night."

She then put down the phone, knowing that whatever demons she faced tonight as she slept and cried, were hers to confront.

"I was so stupid to think this time would be different," she whispered angrily to herself. "I'm so stupid."

She curled up under the duvet, letting the flow of offensive, sarcastic, snide and cruel comments she had read circle her over-active mind as she slowly drifted unconscious, her tears only just beginning to dry up as her eyelids dropped closed.

༻༺

"You have some serious explaining to do," Taylor hissed as she bombarded Gabriella at her locker the next morning.

Gabriella sighed, tired and dejected. "I know," she mumbled. Grabbing books from her locker, Gabriella kept her eyes on the ground, unable to look her best friend in the eye as she really didn't feel like a worthy best friend at that moment.

As they both made their way to Biology, Gabriella stayed quiet, having managed to avoid Troy Bolton all morning. She had had a nose in a book all throughout homeroom, and even now, in mid-morning, managed to avoid all contact with Troy Bolton. However, there was no avoiding the gossip. It had already spread like wildfire, and the stares, and the sideways-glances had most definitely increased. She felt awkward as she walked into the lab, not knowing what those looking at her were thinking made it all worse. Once they were both seated, Taylor's questioning began.

"So, what the hell happened?" Taylor asked harshly, chatter throughout the room masking their conversation from others.

"Nothing _happened," _Gabriella said automatically, though she realised she was glad she finally had someone to really talk to about it all.

"Well, _something_ did, and do you want to know how I know that? Because _everyone, _and I mean _everyone, _is talking about how you not only went bowling with..._him, _but you also disappeared upstairs _with him_ at that guy Paul's house." She held out her hands.

Gabriella rolled her eyes. "I didn't disappear upstairs _with _him. I wanted some quiet and he followed me..."

"So," Taylor probed. "What about the photos?"

Gabriella felt her nerves being pulled to their end. "What about them? I asked if we could have a picture together, or maybe he asked, I'm not sure...and then, before we knew it, Paul was taking photos of everyone all night long... It just so happened my drunk side got captured..."

Taylor smiled at that. "You're drunk side was right about one thing," Taylor said, lowering her voice. "Getting Troy to take his shirt off," she giggled, which was quite unlike Taylor. "Good call."

Gabriella blushed, nodding subtly. "I remember thinking what a superb plan it was. I told him I wanted to try on his shirt..."

With that, they both creased up, and other students began to look at them curiously. They both chose to ignore them.

"What?" Gabriella enquired as innocently as possible, still laughing. "It was a nice shirt!"

Taylor smirked. "_Suure," _she drawled, trying to cease her laughter.

"So," Taylor sighed, her voice quieter. "How do you feel about all this? I saw some of the bullshit those jocks and bitches were saying on Facebook..."

"It's okay," Gabriella replied, which did seem to be the truth at that moment. "I saw it last night, and yeah it upset me but...I realised this morning...that it's just Facebook. It's just crap. I blocked all those people so I can't even see their comments..."

"But you're still sad..."

Gabriella shook her head a little. "No, just stressed out and bewildered... I guess I'm afraid I'm going to do something wrong and make Troy realise that all his contemporaries were right..."

Before Taylor could reply, their teacher entered the room. Gabriella felt herself slump in her chair, both externally and inwardly, as she had been finally ready to speak, only now their conversation had been cut short and she couldn't. She desperately needed the chance to speak about what had been circling her mind, but for now, the discussion was over, leaving her to churn over her troubles some more.

༻༺

"So you haven't spoken to him at all today?" Taylor asked, bemused, as they made their way out of the Biology lab.

Gabriella pushed her hair from her face, still on edge, if not more so. "I haven't had the chance," she shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant.

Taylor scoffed, rolling her eyes and nudging her best friends arm. "Or just haven't found the will."

Gabriella sighed, dropping her pride. "Actually, yeah, that sounds like me..."

As they got to their lockers, Taylor placed her books in carefully where Gabriella threw hers inside without a care.

"Gabi... What's going on?" she asked more softly, suddenly sensing the heavy load of unspoken words that were on weighing down her best friends shoulders.

Gabriella turned to her friend wearily. "How long do you have?"

"Just start from the beginning, the basics." They turned together and began to amble towards the cafeteria. "Do you like him?"

Gabriella flushed and rolled her eyes. "Who wouldn't?" Taylor gave her a look, so she rolled her eyes again, adjusting her answer. "Yes, I do."

"Does he like you?"

Gabriella breathed in. "I think, maybe, he could. He says he does... I think mostly I'm worried that he'll realise that there are plenty of much better girls out there who will be...willing to _do...stuff, _no questions asked, y'know?"

"Normally I would agree with you..."

Gabriella took a deep breath. "He asked me to be his girlfriend."

Taylor's jaw hit the floor instantly. "_What?"_

Gabriella cringed at the volume of her friends voice, instantly shushing her furiously. "We kissed for a while, and he basically told me he wants to be my first real relationship..." Taylor's mouth was still hanging open. "And I said yes."

"So, _why, _pray tell, haven't you spoken to him if you're, _technically, _his _girlfriend_?" she whispered fiercely.

"Because, well, we were drunk and I..." she paused. "I wanted to give him time to think through his decision and see if life back at school would change his mind, _before _I started to get excited about it all... Because, the _last _thing I need is crushed hopes, Tay." She looked at her stunned best friend skeptically.

"What has he said to this?"

Gabriella swallowed, looking at the floor ahead as they walked. "I haven't really told him in so many words... I think I did when I was drunk... I really just need to talk to him about it sober, I suppose. I can try, but I may start crying..." Gabriella cringed at the idea. "I'm just worried that this Facebook, peer pressure crap may be too much, for both of us. It may just turn out to be more effort than its worth... That's why I'm being hesitant," she confirmed as they entered the large white and red cafeteria, "I need to make sure this isn't just going to cave under the pressure of, well, _life_...because I can't let myself start..._really _liking him before I know that's not the case..."

Taylor nodded slowly as they waited in line, much to Gabriella's surprise. "I think you're doing the right thing by getting some distance. That way at least you can sort _yourself _out before you even think about this couple thing... And you're right, the Facebook stuff doesn't matter...as long as you're okay otherwise." Taylor suddenly smiled. "I'm glad, of all the jocks, you picked him, or, I'm glad that he pick you. Whatever. I'm just glad...because, he's not, the worst, I suppose," Taylor admitted rather reluctantly, causing Gabriella to smile despite her nerves.

"No, he's really not..." Gabriella breathed quietly, before paying for her food, though she was too nervous and tense to be hungry.

The moment they turned to find a table in their usual area, Gabriella felt her stomach twist at the sight of Troy in his; at the centre of the room, in front of the crest wall, with the rest of the jocks. He looked like he fitted in with them, as always, though he was a lot quieter than the rest of them. Gabriella followed Taylor to their usual table, dropping her eyes from Troy Bolton the moment his gaze caught hers. She sunk to her seat incredibly inelegantly and began to pick at her food, her eyes never once raising from the table as Taylor began chattering away with the others at the table. Even though Taylor was going about her day as though nothing had changed, Gabriella had not missed the looks and mutterings she received on her way to her usual lunch table; they had all be looking to see if Troy stepped in no doubt. She felt her gut twist as the bitchy girls kept up their mutterings going while she ate her lunch, never drawing breath. She swallowed half her sandwich, and, feeling ill, she stood up to leave.

Slowly she informed Taylor she would see her in later, before standing with her tray to make her way to the clearing table. She concentrated on the ground in front of her as she made her way through the cafeteria tables, still very aware of people's glances. As she reached the clearing area to dump her tray, she turned to walk out. As she left, so did a group of jocks, and it wasn't until it came to their group blocking the hallway that Gabriella realised with an increasing heart rate who exactly made up the group. Chad Danforth, oh the joy, amongst others, including, most nerve-racking of all, _Troy Bolton._

_ "Shit," _she hissed under her breath as she came closer to passing them in the hallway. Slowly she carried on walking, and she was relieved to find most of them ignored her. Just when she thought she was safe, she heard Chad snigger where he stood by his locker. Gabriella kept her eyes on the ground, rounding him cautiously, as though he were a wild animal.

"Hey Gabriella!" he called, deliberately too loud, making the others who hadn't noticed her now snigger too. She cringed inwardly and kept her eyes on the ground, desperately trying to ignore them.

"Hey, Bolton!" one of them called, and Gabriella realised that Troy had been stood slightly apart from the group, looking through his locker. "Your _girlfriend's _here_,_" they sneered, and Gabriella shuddered at their tone, slightly afraid.

Suddenly, there was a body in her way as she was almost clear of them. She looked up to make a snide comment, but was stopped short at the sight of Troy Bolton looking anxiously down at her. He looked bewildered, just as she guessed _she_ did at that moment, as she tried desperately not to stare at him. He made no attempt to halt the sniggering from around them, and as a result, Gabriella felt her stomach drop ten feet. He wasn't making any attempt to stop them, just like she had feared; just as her inner pessimist had anticipated.

Just as she had feared, he seemed to be realising what dating her would do to his social life.

"Excuse me," she murmured, looking down at the ground again as she made her way around her without touching him. He looked lost, conflicted, as he turned to look back at his friends.

"Gabriella," he called after her, though he was too late. She didn't turn back to him.

"Go home, _spaz_!" chuckled one of the most brainless of the jocks from further down the hall, followed by a thump and an exclamation from the same voice of "Ow!"

Though Gabriella was down the hall by the time this comment had been voiced, she had still heard it, and she as a result she felt a lump begin to rise in her throat again.

Why had she let herself get involved? she wondered. After all, she would always be disabled, and so would never fit in with Troy or his peers... So why on earth had she believed twenty four hours ago that, maybe, just maybe, she could?

༻༺

Troy threw down his bag angrily in the boys locker room, slamming his hand a moment later into the lockers, trying to vent his anger. "_Fuck,_" he hissed, throwing himself down onto the nearest bench, grasping his hair in frustration.

"What's eatin' you, Hoops?" came Chad's voice as the locker room began to empty.

Troy clenched his eyes shut, grinding his teeth, trying to find some patience in order to civilly face his apparent 'best friend.' "You know what," he snapped quietly, knowing they weren't totally alone in the room.

"All I know is, you, my friend, are being ridiculous," Chad said wistfully, sorting through his locker.

"_I'm _being ridiculous?" Troy breathed, spinning round to face the black young man behind him, suddenly outraged. "You're saying _I _am being ridiculous?" He ran a hand through his hair, his face aghast. "Let's review, shall we? First, you're _completely _rude to Gabriella at the bowling alley, _then _you're out-of-line about her on the phone to me, even though I made my opinions clear, _then _you encourage and write a load of bullshit comments on my Facebook, and now you're encouraging more humiliating_, cruel _comments about her, but this time, _to her face?" _Troy looked at his friend, who's attention he had finally fully gained, as he felt himself shaking slightly with anger.

"Dude, I wasn't 'encouraging'..." Chad said, then suddenly he let out a careless chuckle, "I can't believe you're getting _this _angry over _that _chick? Seriously? Of all the chicks––"

Troy blinked rapidly as he threw his shirt over his head, grabbing antiperspirant from his locker. "Shut up!" he yelled. There was silence as Chad blinked, shocked by his friend's aggressive outburst. "Just _stop. _Shut up about her alright?"

After his friend has stopped yelling, Chad shook his head, suddenly amused. "You really have lost your mind, eh?"

"Excuse me?" he asked, completely lost to his friends reasoning. "I'm just being a _decent human being_," he replied loudly, exasperated, "which is less than I can say for you right now!"

"You're being a hypocrite!" Chad returned in an equally raised voice.

"What?"

"Troy, you barely know the girl," Chad remarked, factually. "In fact," he realised as he pointed at his friend, still sorting through his locker, "A few weeks ago you would have shrugged her off like the rest of us. One holiday job can't change that much, dude, no matter what you say."

Troy's mouth hung open, disbelieving. "That's not tr––"

"It _is _true, Troy. The only time I ever heard you mention her before spring break was when she fell in your English class and you came out all curious wanting to know my opinion of her, which, by the way, hasn't changed."

"I never said I cared what you think of her!" Troy snapped suddenly. "Did I?" he prompted, his blue eyes blazing. "No. And to be honest, I shouldn't matter. If you're not going to help me, then whatever... I can't be dealing with this."

"And what do you expect me to do, exactly? You can't just blame me for the fact you're not brave enough to tell the world you're with her, I'm sorry but you can't," Chad said calmly, changing into his Wildcats uniform. "And _please, _quit expecting me to care when, if you _really _think about it for a minute, neither did you not too long ago." Chad shut his locker, shaking his head before looking back at his frustrated friend. "What happened to you man?"

"I was just going to ask you the same question," Troy asked, dejected.

"Look," Chad sighed apologetically after a minute or so, "I'm sorry if I've been being rude about her... I just, don't quite..._understand _how this could happen so quickly. I guess I just...I don't like the idea that things are going to change."

Troy nodded slightly, suddenly not angry anymore. "I get it, man... and I'm sorry if I've changed over these last few weeks, I guess I've...been being a over-protective ass."

Chad's lips tugged at the edge into a slight smile, which Troy returned. "Nah, man," he shook his head a little, nearing his friend."It's me who's been being an ass... I guess I've just missed having my best friend around is all..."

Troy nodded, before pulling on his number fourteen vest, and he suddenly chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows at his friend. "What? Feeling threatened by a girl, are ya'?"

Chad smirked, before reaching out to punch his friend in the shoulder playfully. "Don't push it, Bolton," he laughed, but after a moment, he smirked and slapped his friend on the arm. "But, yeah."

Troy smiling slightly at his friend's out-of-character admission, but pretended for Chads egos sake that it wasn't a big deal. He rose his dark eyebrows. "Don't push it or what? You're gonna' whoop my ass?" he chuckled sarcastically, tightening his laces.

"You bet, Bolton," he smirked, slapping his friend on the shoulder. "And hey," he called from the door to the gym as he walked away. "I really am sorry about my manners... Do you really like her?"

Troy hesitated, but decided, yet again, that honestly would be worth it in the end. "Yeah, man, I really do," he murmured, his voice wistful as his thoughts strayed back to the brunette he had been missing.

"Urgh, don't get mushy," Chad mumbled, making Troy laugh. "Okay," he said louder. "Well, I'll try not to be rude or inappropriate, if you introduce me...and promise that we have some guy time real soon."

Troy smiled at his friend. "Sure," he nodded. "You still think she's a nerd though, don't you?"

"Well yeah, because she _is_..." Troy gave his friend a look once he had given his automatic answer, making Chad splutter. "However," he recovered, carefully. "I'll try to be nice, I promise. I don't like it when we fight, so I'll do it for you, man."

Troy smiled slightly, staying seated on the bench in his Wildcats uniform. "Thanks, man... Although she may take some convincing to forgive me after today..."

"Oh, shit, yeah..." Chad said in realisation.

Troy suddenly realised everyone else had left. "We should get to practice," he murmured, following his friend through the door to the gym, ready to face the wrath of his father, Coach Bolton.

༻༺

Gabriella was awoken from her daydreaming by her mother calling up the stairs. She looked down, realising she had been staring at her half finished homework as she daydreamed for at least ten minutes.

"Gabriella!" came her mother's voice again. "Troy is at the door for you!"

Gabriella felt her heart leap into her mouth, realising there was no way of avoiding him now. She had managed to all day, however, though she didn't like to admit it, she had missed him, which no doubt was the reason behind her day dreaming.

"Okay, coming!" she called reluctantly. Stepping out her room and down the stairs carefully in her pajama bottoms and tank top, Gabriella pulled her hair out its bun and walked to the door. She cringed, realising she had no make up on, before stepping round the door.

The sight of Troy Bolton stood there in a dark grey army t-shirt that stretched tight and snug across his built chest, and his usual dark blue jeans that rested low on his hips. His feet were clad in his usual high top converse, and his new short haircut was messy and spiked. His eyes were bright, a shocking sky blue that made her stomach weak with lust. He really was beautiful...

_Shame he could be such an ass, _sniped Gabriella's inner conscience.

"Hey," he said softly, his approach gentle, knowing she was most likely to be mad.

"Oh, so, you're talking to me now?" Gabriella asked, letting the hurt she felt when he didn't protect her, which was very against the character of the Troy she had grown to know, leak into her voice.

"I deserve that," he said, cringing slightly at the hurt in her voice. "I want you to know how sorry I am," he murmured, earnestly, looking across at her, keeping a metres distance between them.

"I'm not interested––" she began, turning to shut the door.

"Gabriella, no, wait!" he urged, pulling her back to him gently. "Listen... I was just, well, caught off guard by the way my friends acted, and I didn't want to get too angry at them..."

"You let them call me those things! You _know _how much that hurts me and you did nothing!" defended Gabriella forcefully, her voice raising, trying to resist the urge to cry.

"I didn't want to encourage them," he justified, his tone desperate. "I knew all they were looking for was a reaction from me..." He sighed. "It backfired...They're just stupid, shallow guys. They don't mean any harm, well, most of them don't... And I'll talk to them...but they're my friends... I know all of this is complicated right now but, Gab," he took a step forward, reaching for her hand, "to me, none of that stuff matters... What matters to me is you," he whispered, running a thumb along the back of her hand.

"I told you," Gabriella murmured tearfully, "not to tell me things you don't mean––" she began.

"But I _do _mean it. I haven't lied to you, not once, and I intend to always be honest with you...just as I was with Chad before practice today."

Gabriella paused, thriving in the feeling of Troy's hot hand around hers. "You talked to Chad?"

Troy nodded. "I told him I didn't care what he thought, and in the end, he apologised and finally admitted he has only acted this way because he feels like he's losing me to you..." Troy smiled slightly, looking up at the bright sky for a moment. "Which, in a way, he is..."

Gabriella suddenly sighed, tired of being angry at him, because he clearly didn't deserve it. "I've missed you," she breathed looking down at her hands in his.

"I've missed you too," he murmured, taking her free hand in his. "And I really am sorry."

Gabriella looked up shyly into his eyes, still not quite used to making eye contact with a male this way. He smiled kindly at her, as she did the same, unable to stay angry at him. A moment later, she reached up and pressed her lips to his smooth, clean-shaven cheek. He smelled of crisp after-shave, cologne and ginger. When she went to lean down, Troy grasped her lower back, keeping her steady as she stood on the tips of her toes.

"I'll fall," she urged as he held her in place.

"No you won't," he murmured with confidence, holding her strongly in place. "I won't let you fall." He pressed his lips to her forehead once, conscious of how Gabriella's mother was just inside.

"I have to finish my homework," Gabriella realised regretfully before hugging him for a moment.

"Yeah... Me too," he replied. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Gabriella nodded, and was preparing to shut the door as gracefully as possible as he suddenly turned back to her.

"Oh and Gabi?"

"Yes?"

He grinned suddenly, trying to hide his nerves. "My cousin, one of many, is having a wedding on Saturday...and I did promise I would spend time with you, but I'd forgotten... So...would you like to come?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck as he looked at the girl opposite him from under his dark lashes.

Gabriella smiled, touched by his invitation. "Yes, I'd love to. Thank you."

Troy nodded once, smiling, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief, and for a moment, there was quiet.

Gabriella gripped the door, mustering courage. "Would you like to come in?"

Troy smiled wider, before nodding. "Yeah, I would actually," he chuckled, leaning to whisper in her ear. "Fuck homework."

"Troy Bolton!" Gabriella scolded with a laugh, hitting his hard of the chest, pulling back from him to step inside. "Mom?" Gabriella called back into the house. "Is it okay if Troy stays for a bit?"

Maria's head popped round the corner, slightly too enthusiastic for Gabriella's liking. "Of course! Will you be staying for dinner, Troy?"

Troy smiled at Gabriella mother, unfazed. "I have to be home soon, so probably not, but thank you."

Gabriella quickly moved towards the stairs, grasping the banister. "Come on, Troy," she urged quietly, and with an amused smirk Maria Montez watched them go, shaking her head as she walked back into the kitchen.

"I hope you don't mind me being in my pajamas," Gabriella stated bashfully as she sat on her bed inelegantly.

Troy tried to hide his smile, but with no prevail. "No, not at all..." Slowly, he sat on the very edge of her bed, unsure.

"Troy," Gabriella laughed skeptically. "Get over here."

As he crawled along the bed to sit next to her against the headboard of the double bed, Gabriella grasped his shoulders, pulling his face down to meet hers.

"Hey, now, what's this?" he husked in reaction to her bold move. He smoothed a hand over the back of her head, flattening the hair there.

Slowly, ignoring him, Gabriella pressed her lips to his, letting her natural instinct take over after a moment. Troy's larger hands pressed her against the bed gently at her ribs while her hands grasped his hair. There was something Gabriella liked a lot about a guy running his hands up and down her clothed ribs this way. It was the only area of her body where she still felt in proportion and 'thin,' so to speak. As she breathed in, the very outline of her ribcage structure could be felt under her skin, just as it should on any healthy person. However, Gabriella had always had a 'thing' with running her fingers or her hand along her ribs, as it felt soothing. So to feel Troy doing the very same action, even if it was over her clothes, made her want to combust. He lips were hot and skilled, applying differing amounts of pressure. After a moment longer, Gabriella felt her mouth open wider and his tongue touch her lips. With an excited tug to deep in her stomach, Gabriella gripped locks of his hair as she oped her mouth wider into the kiss, letting her tongue begin to wonder as well. Suddenly his tongue met hers in the new, deepened kiss, and a girlish sigh of a moan rose from with her throat. Troy's hands were suddenly in her hair, deep into the curly mess as he pulled them free from their tie. Gabriella's leg hitched around his hips on instinct and they moved slightly against each other, the sound of their lips parting then connecting again was all that could be heard aside from their haggard breathing.

Gabriella's shy self was afraid of what he was thinking of her in that moment, but her inner, wilder side, who had always been starved of action, was taking full advantage. Troy's hair was so soft between her fingers, and slightly damp, to the point where she pushed her fingers deeper and deeper into the locks, pulling slightly as he bit down on her lower lip. A soft, almost inaudible, groan could be heard, though it was not clear who it belonged to. Slowly, Gabriella dropped a hand and watched as though it were not her own as it made its way to the hem of his t-shirt. Her fingertips slipped slightly underneath, something she had been craving for weeks to do, and felt the rippling muscles there, his skin with a slightly covering of hair.

"Gabi, Gabi," he urged in a whisper as he suddenly attempted to pull away from her. "Baby," he uttered, but she stubbornly gripped his hair hard, still kissing him, and pulled. He groaned throatily for a moment, before trying to recover himself. "Fuck, baby. Easy, easy," he breathed, gently making some space between the two of them before looking her in the eyes. "_Jesus Christ"_ he husked, pulling his face from hers forcefully, as though it were a taxing job. "Who are you and what have you done with Gabriella? What the fuck just happened?"

Gabriella suddenly felt herself again, quickly dashing her hand from under his shirt, blushing. "I guess the amount of alcohol I consumed the other night permanently awoke my drunk side."

Troy chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "I'll say, and isn't she braven," he breathed, laying back against the pillow and headboard, slightly breathing heavily. "You're going to kill me if you keep attacking me like that."

She looked down at him, taken by his natural rouged handsome beauty, and touched his cheek, cupping it with her palm. He instantly cupped his own hand over hers. "Sorry," she murmured, worried she'd done something wrong. "I have no idea what I'm doing," she murmured, letting her vulnerability show.

Slowly, Troy placed both his hands either side of her neck and leaned up to kiss her softly on the mouth, then again between the eyes. "Neither do I, Gabi. I haven't had a girlfriend since..." he sighed, trailing off, not wanting to mention _her _name again.

Gabriella huffed in realisation as she lay down next to him. "So we're both clueless then." She paused. "This could be interesting."

There was quiet for a minute. "I like you in these PJs," he murmured, his voice suddenly throaty and beautiful higher octave before he cleared it. Gently his hand came to rest on her thigh as she lay facing him.

"I don't," she grumbled lowly, stubborn. Troy instantly cracked a smile.

"There she is," he praised. "The Gabriella I'm used to: one who doesn't know compliments."

Gabriella rolled her eyes, not sure what to say, because he was right.

"Woah," Troy suddenly remarked, looking over her to the corner of the room. He leapt up, climbing off the bed and walking across the room in his socks, taking hold of her fancy acoustic guitar. "Do you play?" he asked, turning while carrying the guitar towards the bed by the neck. He curled up onto the bed next to her again, this time crossed-legged with the guitar in his lap.

"Yeah, I, er," she paused, feeling bashful again. "I taught myself. I'm not very good," she added quickly, self-consciously.

Troy instantly looked up at her, raising his dark eyebrows that she had grown to appreciate so much. "You taught _yourself?" _

Gabriella nodded slowly, not sure the reasoning behind his tone.

"That's _so _cool," he praised. He looked down at the guitar, strumming his hands cluelessly down the strings. He looked at her with an amused smirk on his face. "_I _can't play a single note."

"I don't like playing for people," she defended quickly.

Troy smiled, endeared by her all-over bashfulness. "It's okay, you don't have to play for me now. I don't mind."

He tone was so gentle and kind that Gabriella almost felt guilty.

"Okay," she groaned, begrudged. "I'll play." Troy grinned wolfishly, quickly passing her the guitar. "Nothing fancy though," she added stubbornly.

"Fine with me," he assured, moving so his crossed legs touched hers. After a moment though, she placed the guitar to the side, fidgeting.

"You okay?" he checked, concerned.

Gabriella moved so her back was supported completely by the headboard, before reaching for the guitar again. "Yeah," she answered, quickly.

Troy didn't make a sound, and when she looked up into his face she realised he was waiting for an explanation.

She sighed, deciding to oblige. "I need something to support me, hence using the headboard. I can't sit crossed legged for very long. I end up basically lying down because my muscles aren't strong enough." She placed the guitar down again, deciding to try and demonstrate. Trying her best to sit cross-legged, she looked up at him. "See?" she questioned, placing a hand on either knee. Troy suddenly noted how her knees did not bend low at all, to the point where her ankles were crossed but her knees were still pretty much facing upward.

"How come?" he asked softly. "I'm not sure I understand."

Gabriella tried her best to pressed her knees towards the floor, into a 'cross-legged' position, but as soon as her hands left her knees, they returned back to practically uncrossing. "My muscles don't stretch," she explained simply. "Bones grow faster than muscles, as I'm sure you know, and so when I was going through growth spurts, my bones grew faster, just like every else's. Only, because of the way I walk, my muscles aren't used in to correct way, so they didn't stretch enough to keep up during the growth period, and so by now my bones have fused in the wrong positions, and my muscles are shorter than they should be..."

Gabriella wasn't used to explaining it all in such a detailed way, and she found she didn't know where to look. She stared down at her knotted hands, surprised to suddenly feel Troy's hands on her knees.

"You seem like you know a lot of the science behind it all..."

"Well, it's kinda' my job to know..." she swallowed. "S'just side affects of my overall problem," she murmured, trying yet again to flatten her knees into the cross-legged position. Suddenly feeling her hip lock due to the strain of trying to get into the position. The muscles in her hip joint spasmed into a cramp. It had happened on different joints many times before, but the hip was always the most painful, as it was deep under the skin and a hard place to stretch out of a cramp. It knocked the breath from her lungs because of the pain and discomfort, and she instantly eased herself back onto the bed, trying to unlock her legs from their position while enduring the pain. "Ow, ow, _ow," _she choked out, her hand instantly moving to her inner hip and thigh and pressing to try and coax away the pain.

"Gabriella?" Troy questioned, alarmed. "Baby, what is it? What's wrong?" He placed his hand over hers at her him.

"Hip's locked," she breathed, finally feeling the spasm in her hip begin to subside. "It's okay," she uttered, sensing his confusion. "It happens a lot," she assured as he helped her back into a sitting position.

"_What _happens a lot? What happened?" he breathed, smoothing her hair with his palm.

Gabriella shook her head, not looking directly at him. "My hip joint locked. It's like cramp, or a spasm, or something in between. It's hard to get rid of because it's a deep feeling..." She shook her head as though it were nothing. "It happens whenever I try and move my legs into positions that my muscles can't stretch to."

Troy reached down and kissed her once, catching her off guard. She looked up at him questioningly, only to see the most earnest and sympathetic look in his cobalt irises.

"I'm so sorry, Brie...I never realised how much you had to deal with," he murmured, frowning to the point where the 'V' appeared between his brows.

"Please, don't, don't be sorry. That's nothing," she assured him quickly, then sighed as he cupped her cheek.

"What is it?"

"There's so much you don't know."

"I'd like to know everything, one day, so I can care for you."

Gabriella felt a deep tug in her stomach. 'You don't know what you're saying," she denied quickly, attempting to pull back from him.

He gripped her arms tighter, stopping her from pulling away from him. "I'd like to try."

Gabriella felt her barriers begin to crumble, and a moment later, she nodded, signaling to him that they can do exactly that; try.

"Good," he murmured, pressing his lips to her hair. Sensing the blue mood, Troy reach for her guitar. "So, can I hear a tune now?"

"I'm not singing," she warned, taking the guitar begrudgingly. "You have to earn that," she smiled smugly.

"That's okay, I can do that some of time," he grinned, sending her a wink, before he reached over, gently smoothing hair from her face. After a moment, he smirked. "Bet you can't sing anyway."

Gabriella fist came in contact with his left pec, sending his backwards. "Don't push it!" she grumbled seriously.

Troy cracked up, gripping his abdomen as laughing shook him. He was still laughing as Gabriella's fingers strummed the strings absentmindedly, shaking her head at his ever-present, over-active humour.

_How truly ridiculous he could be_, she mused with a smile.


	17. No Change This Time

A/N:_ Hello, Readers._  
><em>So, because I have not left the house since Prom (13 days ago) I've ever more time to write, which is hopefully beginning to make up for all the time I made you guys wait while I wrote 'God Bless The Broken Road' that I posted a few months ago.<em>  
><em>So, anyway, this chapter kinda came out of no where. It's kinda significant, but kinda a filler at the same time, if that makes any sense? There are various ways this story could go to get to the ending I have in mind for it, it's just now up to me to choose and write...<em>  
><em>So, since I seem to have a month of nothing much to to do, you may be seeing more of me very soon...<em>

_Oh, and I'd like to also say, though I read and appreciate every single review, there is one particular reviewer I'd like to say a big thank you to. She wrote a whole paragraph about how she spent a whole day reading this story from beginning to present, plus how she's been trying to google Gabriella's symptoms to try and figure out what she has, which is super cool dedication - I like that! (Though I have to say, it's stills secret. You will find out when Troy does!)_  
><em>Then, on top of that, this reviewer also went on to say how much she'd learned and how she now appreciates her health more after reading this, and how she understands me, and Gabriella, not liking the word disabled. And, THEN, she said how my story reminded her of Angkeats. Little did she know, until now when she reads this, Angkeats is one of my favourite writers on here and a great inspiration to me (she also reads and reviews this story) - so that felt really good!<em>  
><em>And thank you SO MUCH for then saying you think I'm <em>**as good as**_ Angkeats, that meant so much, though I'm not sure how that's true..._  
><em>SO yeah, this chapter is dedicated to <strong>hisboo13 <strong>because her amazing essay review inspired me to keep up my writing this week, and not just give up.  
>So, Thanks Maya - Keep up the reviewing please! - this one is for you :) xxx<em>

**Disclaimer: I do not own HSM, Disney does. Yada, yada.**

* * *

><p>NA - _Inspiration for these next few chapters are going to be quite important, so you may want to listen to gain some perspective on Gabriella's emotional position :) The inspiration for different chapters may be the same, but the choice of which bit of the song will be different, so take note of the lyrics._

_Music is a big deal to me in my life, so they'll help :)_

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><p><em>"Everybody's waiting<br>__Everybody's watching  
><em>_Even when you're sleeping  
><em>_Keep your ey-eyes open._

_The tricky thing_  
><em>Is yesterday we were just children.<em>  
><em>Playing soldiers<em>  
><em>Just pretending,<em>  
><em>Dreaming dreams with happy endings.<em>  
><em>In backyards, winning battles with our wooden swords,<em>  
><em>But now we've stepped into a cruel world,<em>  
><em>Where everybody stands and keeps score.<em>

_Keep your eyes open._

_Everybody's waiting for you to breakdown,_  
><em>Everybody's watching to see the fallout.<em>  
><em>Even when you're sleeping, sleeping,<em>  
><em>Keep your ey-eyes open.<br>Keep your ey-eyes, open."_

––_'Eyes Open'_ by Taylor Swift

**No Change This Time**

Gabriella sat near the front of the bus on the way to school the next morning, humming along to her iPod, wondering what the day my hold for her. After Troy had arrived at her house last night, at least she knew now that they were going to try and get on with being together never mind what the rest of the student body thought. This assurance however did not quench the tight knots she felt in her stomach as the bus pulled up to East High. She shook slightly as she waited for most of the rowdier students to exit the bus first, trying to move steadily as she stepped down the steps. As her feet touched the ground, she looked up, and there, hand on hip, was Sharpay Evans, eyebrow raised and lips in a thin angry line. Before Gabriella even had chance to put away her headphones, she realised that some Cheerleaders were loitering, sensing confrontation they obviously didn't want to miss. Gabriella suddenly realised she had no where to run to. This was an ambush.

"Hey _Montez_," Sharpay sneered. "So, I hear, you've been telling everyone you're Troy's girlfriend now?" She spoke as though Gabriella were a five year old, and it irked the brunette to the point of violence.

"I haven't told anyone––" Gabriella was only to be stopped by Sharpay's pursed-like-a-puppet manicured hand.

"Okay, don't talk, because I, quite frankly, don't want to hear it. It's lies, and it's, actually, kinda' sad, because it just shows how pathetic a girl you are."

"Why are you so against anyone going out with Troy?" Gabriella asked, generally confused, though she could quite easily predict the reason.

Sharpay rolled her eyes, made a sound of disgust, then looked back at Gabriella with an even colder glare. "Not _anyone. _Just you." Suddenly she moved for too close, almost chest-to-chest, looking slightly down on Gabriella where she stood in his pink stiletto heels. "I'm warning you," she murmured. "_Back._ _Off_. You're not good enough for him." There was a pause, then the word came, like angry venom, inches from Gabriella's face. "_Spaz."_

Gabriella recoiled almost as though someone had hit her, but, she noted, not as much as she used to. It was such a painful word for her to hear, it shunned her confidence levels right back down to where she started. Sharpay gave a triumphant smirk, stepping so their chests almost touched. Instinctively, Gabriella retreated, taking stepping backward. She took a breath, as though to speak, to which Sharpay barked a laugh.

"Got something to say, _spaz?" _

Gabriella took that moment to look up at the drama queen in front of her; with her mostly fuchsia pink wardrobe, high heels, thin dancers legs, ivory skin, bleach-blonde hair, flawless skin, blue eyes, and she suddenly felt a revelation. She didn't envy the girl in front of her nearly as much as she did other girls who were just as pretty, and that was because Sharpay saw no flaw in being a horrid person, which, cheesy as it sounded, made her ugly. Uglier than Gabriella could ever physically be.

Suddenly, Gabriella caught sight of a familiar face behind Sharpay, back a few feet. He looked, angry, no, frustrated, as he stood with his arms crossed over is chest, his blue eyes watching her intently. More than anything she was surprised he had managed to keep his temper under control, especially if he had been stood there long enough to hear certain words that had been mentioned.

Gabriella just shook her head, suddenly filled with a reassurance and confidence just by seeing Troy being there for her. He didn't intervene, she realised, because that would not be beneficial with girls like Sharpay. Both she herself and Sharpay needed to _see _Gabriella stand up for herself, otherwise any other defense would be useless.

Gabriella shook her head a little, laughing slightly, suddenly aware of how ridiculous and trivial this all seemed. "Huh," she huffed, "you know what?" Gabriella suddenly decided, smiling subtly, stepping sideways, slightly motioning with her hands, suddenly feeling brave. "No._You _back off, Sharpay."

There was a pause. "Excuse me?" Sharpay bite out, outraged, looking as though the brunette had hit her in the face.

"You heard her," came the deep voice of Troy Bolton from behind. Gabriella grinning subtly at the sight of him behind the blonde girl as he walked forward. He winked at her as she began laughing, looking back at Sharpay, deciding to be the bigger person.

"See you around, Sharpay," she said lowly, shaking her head a little in pity of the blondes spoilt attitude to life. Sharpay huffed dramatically, before storming off, causing the loitering cheerleaders to disperse. Gabriella was breathing heavily, shaking slightly with the adrenaline of tell Sharpay where to go, which was only made worse as Troy Bolton made his way towards her. He reached her, standing a foot away in his usual red and white varsity elbow length cotton t-shirt and dark blue jeans and vans. He smiled gracefully. She took a step towards him, trying to smile back.

"Hey baby," he murmured, leaning forward and down to pull her close.

She rolled her eyes at his term of endearment, knowing he was trying to make her bashful. "Hey," she greeted almost inaudibly. He succeeded in indeed making her blush a deep scarlet, to which he grinned. He hugged her casually around the waist as her arms went around his neck. Hugging this way required her to stand on the tips of her toes in flat shoes, which was something, with her poor posture, that she found very difficult to do without falling. As result, she almost fell, just as she had the night before on her doorstep, and he chuckled, a deep, velvet sound in her ear.

"Don't fall, baby," he murmured humorously into her hair, causing Gabriella to laugh but then pulled back enough to hit his arm.

"Stop," was all she said, skeptically, rolling her eyes before walking round him and towards school. "Besides, I thought you said you wouldn't let me fall anyway."

Troy chuckled, increasingly. "I wouldn't, but your blush is just _so _worth it."

Gabriella kept walking, ignoring him, stubbornly pretending to be offended. The student body of East High mostly disregarded her when all the students were together in this way, and she guessed it was because they had become used to seeing her and the way she walked. So, on this day, she was conscious of people watching her, as though she had grown a extra head, or was wearing a clown outfit, or had her skirt tucked into her underwear. Luckily none of those were true, making it all the more unnerving.

As it was an exceedingly warm day, and Gabriella had decided to bring out some of her more summery clothes, as a result wearing a pale yellow sundress that finished just above the knee. Yet again though she was wearing flat shoes, guaranteeing that her balance that day would be worse. _Great, _she groaned inwardly.

"Hey," called Troy as he caught up with her, his bag over one shoulder. "Baby, wait up!"

Gabriella cringed at the volume of his voice as they were surrounded as the whole school milled around in the sun before the bell, and she watched as heads turned at his voice. He caught up and she shushed him. "_Shh_! Don't," she pleaded gently, stopping walking as he touched her arm.

"Don't what?" After a moment, he cocked his head to the side, squinting. "Are you embarrassed?"

He was smirking as he spoke, to Gabriella's relief, meaning he was kidding. "No," she breathed, shaking her head, frowning. "Okay, a little... This is all new to me is all... I, I like it when you call me..._that_," she reassured quickly. "I told you I did, it's just..."

Troy neared her, gently cupping her wrist that hung by her side. "Just what?" he murmured.

"Just a private thing for me," she smiled, looking down at their hands. "I'd just like to keep it that way."

She was, again, bashful, and Troy chuckled to himself, a moment later cupped either hand at her neck, the pads of his thumbs running along her jawbone as he drew her face up to meet his.

Gabriella felt her face burning, and she was conscious of how they had caught the majority of the bystanders attention, even if they were pretending they weren't looking. It was as though they were waiting to see what might happen, which made Gabriella want to laugh, because so was she.

"Alright," he whispered, "Baby," he added for good measure, leaning down gently to press his lips to her cheek.

She rolled her eyes again, groaning at his persistence, walking towards the door and away from their onlookers. He followed, catching his little finger hers as they walked, their arms swinging slightly between them.

"I'm proud of you, by the way," he said as they made their way down the corridor towards Troy's locker. "For standing up to the ice drama queen. She deserved it, after what she's said to you since I've known you..."

"It's okay, I'm okay," she reassured, automatically. "I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't have to be," Troy counteracted firmly. "That _word," _he breathed. "I can't believe people––"

"Can we not talk about this now?" Gabriella asked, not wanting to dwell on the negative that made her feel so small.

Troy nodded, losing his anger. "Sorry, it's just..." He paused. "You did well with her just now... I seem to remember not too long ago that she frightened you."

Gabriella cringed at the memory of her weeping on Troy when he had barely known her at all. "She _does _frighten me... It only worked in my favour today because..." She sighed. "I didn't have _you_ before, Troy," she uttered, focusing on the ground as she walked, desperate not to fall over in front of him. "You make everything more bearable."

Her tone was so earnest, Troy felt humbled. It tugged his heart strings, causing his stomach to knot at her vulnerability. He suddenly wished he could press her on the issues that troubled her, but he knew this was neither the time nor the place. "If only you realised how much of a similar effect you have on me, Gabriella," he expressed solemnly. "One day I'll prove it to you."

"You can try," she remarked dryly, smirking as they reached Troy's locker. She spotted Chad with some other males nearing, so instantly scrambled for an escape. "I need to go see Taylor," she said quickly, moving to walk away before she could be the centre of another ambush.

Troy, however, sensing her anxiety, grasped her hand. He looked into her eyes, he instantly recognised the look of a deer in highlights. He slowly traced her cheek with his fingers, kissing her knuckles a moment later. Her anxiety tugged at his emotions. He had never met anyone so aware and thoughtful of everything around her to the point where it triggered anxiety.

"Come find me if you need me, okay?" he questioned softly.

He watched her smile, despite her worry. Her eyes were still uncertain, the smile a mere mask. "I've lived almost eighteen years without you, Troy," she remarked. "I'll be fine," she assured. but reached up to hug him quickly for good measure.

"I know," he husked in her ear, gripping her body close while he could. "I just worry about you is all."

As she pulled away from his warmth, she could hear his friends nearing, so began to retreat towards the sanctuary of her own locker in the opposite direction. "I know," she nodded, turning away. "But as I've told you before, there's no use worrying about me. I do enough of that for myself."

He watched her walk in her own unique usual way down the hall, and he frowned slightly, conscious of how he didn't notice her walking disability nearly as much as he used to anymore. That was, of course, until he observed her from further away, as an onlooker would. He realised he still had questions for her, so many questions...

He turned back to his locker, catching Chad's eye, who smiled knowingly at him, before returning to deliberately distracting the other jocks from his best friend and his girl.

After collecting his books, he made his way to his best friend with the afro, grasping him into a hug.

"Thanks, man," he murmured as he pulled back.

The african-american boy chuckled, grasping his friend shoulder, shaking him slightly. "Don't mention it."

༻༺

"So," came Troy's voice from behind Gabriella as she stood sorting through her locker. "Are you going to allow me to sit with you at lunch today?"

Gabriella shut her locker door, turning to him. "You sitting with _me?"_

Troy smiled, taking her face between his hands, playfully nudging her nose with his. "Yes, and proudly."

Gabriella knew this would be asking for trouble, but knew kind-hearted Troy would not see it that way. She felt out of breath, blinking at the stunning sight of his eyes, deep and emotive, and so, _so _blue. The moment was intense, as their a breathing was deep and slow. A moment later though, the moment was over.

"Six inch rule, Miss Montez, Mr Bolton," came the sharp, authoritative voice of Ms Darbus from down the hall. Troy reluctantly backed away, momentarily embarrassed, as Gabriella turned the shade of a tomato.

"Sorry, Ms Darbus," he called, smiling crookedly at Gabriella has she giggled, hiding her face. He chuckled, cooing at her as she moved away from him.

"Okay, I'm hungry," Gabriella declared, walking in the direction of the cafeteria. "Coming?"

"You bet."

They made their way into the lunchroom together, and the moment they past through the doors, Gabriella felt every cell of her body suddenly screaming in alarm.

"You know," Gabriella muttered as they joined the back of the queue, "my whole body is on red alert right now."

He turned in the queue to look at her, brows knitting questioningly. "Is it now?"

"I mean, it happens a lot, the anxiety thing, but right now...alarms are wiring."

Troy frowned slightly, concerned, skimming fingers along her lower arm. "What can I do?"

Gabriella smiled tightly, tipping her head to the side. "Nothing," she said, slightly melancholy.

"Nothing?" he asked, reaching in the tight space between them to curl a piece of her hair out of her face and behind her ear. "Well, that's counterproductive."

"If I'm honest..." she paused. "It gets worse when you're around."

"Worse?" he questioned, his tone slightly hurt.

"Yeah," she whispered as they moved along to pick up a tray.

_It gets worse because they all know I shouldn't be with you, just I like I know I shouldn't. You're the only one who doesn't. Can't you feel them staring?_

"Because you deserve the best," she said out loud, ignoring her inner conscience who spoke the truth, "and I want to do you justice." She blushed deeply at her own admission, looking down at her tray. "Plus, it's just how you are... You make me nervous, because I don't want to mess up."

Troy smiled, looking bemused, leaning so his lips almost touched her hair. "So, what you're saying is, I have an effect on you," he husked, his voice low, making Gabriella shudder and nod.

"You have an effect on me too, you know," he murmured a moment later as they began selecting their food.

Gabriella just shook her head, in denial. "Whatever." She picked up a bottle of water, an apple, and a brownie, placing them on her tray. As they moved along, Troy raised an eyebrow at her as she ignored him, not looking up.

"You don't believe me?" he asked, yet again finding the whole situation amusing.

"No, I don't," she said, tightly, before reaching to pay for her food items.

"I got it," Troy interrupted, passing enough bills to pay for her lunch to the women behind the cashier.

"Oh, no Troy––" Gabriella began to protest.

"I said I got it," he smiled, looking down at her before paying for his own sandwich, drink and salad. He looked down at her tray. "No sandwich? No main meal?"

She smirked slightly, lifting her right hand to show him her brown paper lunch bag. "I brought my own sandwiches," she muttered, dumping the bag on her tray. "I'm trying to cut back on how much I eat."

Troy snorted a chuckle, rolling his azure eyes skyward. "That's ridiculous," he murmured, and Gabriella wasn't sure if she was meant to have heard.

She just shrugged wistfully. "You say that now..." She sighed, not wanting to finished the sentence, so turned to look out over the many tables in the lunchroom. She felt familiar panic and anxiety take hold, frantically searching for familiar faces. After making eye contact with some students she'd rather not, she winced at their judgmental gazes, finally spotting the face she was looking for. "I'm going to go sit with Taylor," Gabriella murmured as they turned towards the tables. "You can follow if you wish."

Troy just laughed to himself again. "I'm followin' baby," he murmured humourously. "I'm following."

Gabriella walked towards Taylor and Kelsi who were sat with Martha and others at their usual few tables and tried to quench her inner panic attack as she walking in an open space (where there were plenty of human legs and chair legs to trip over) in front of Troy Bolton. Countless cringeworthy scenarios filled her mind. Conscious of how the jocks and cheerleaders were tracking their movements with their surprised eyes, Gabriella tried to calm her breathing as she sat down at one of the empty seats at Taylor's table. Troy sat down a moment later, causing Taylor to halt her debate with Martha about bio-chemistry.

"Hey guys," Gabriella greeted in her most general voice as possible.

"Hey," Troy nodded in greeting to the gaping teens round the table, before tucking into his meal without a care, turning to smile at the brunette beside him.

There was a tense silence, before Martha began to talk with Kelsi, and slowly conversation awkwardly returned. After a few more seconds, Gabriella could feel the thousands of unspoken questions flying at her from Taylor's intense gaze. When she couldn't look up to greet them, the dark girl snapped.

"Alright," Taylor snapped suddenly, placing her palm down hard on the table. The sound was so sudden and harsh, even amongst the loud chatter of the rest of the lunchroom, causing Gabriella to jump with surprise almost out of her own skin. Troy's gaze snapped up cautiously, first to Taylor, then to the girl beside him. Gabriella felt slightly more at ease as she felt Troy's calming hand on her knee under the table.

"I'm trying not to over-think this because I know Gabi has already, but I'm confused," Taylor said in her usual valedictorian tone. "Are you two together now?"

Gabriella smiled slightly at her best friend sat across from her, trying to send a silent _'shut up' _signal. "I suppose so."

Beside her, Troy chuckled deeply. "You suppose?" he questioned, shaking his head slightly. Gabriella instantly looked at him apologetically, about to stammer an explanation, worried he was offended. When her eyes fell on him however, he was smiling, a gentle expression, as he rubbed her knee with his palm. "We are," Troy confirmed across to Taylor in a soft voice, still speaking more confidently than Gabriella ever could.

"Okay, well," Taylor reasoned, eating some more of her meal. "I suppose that's that then."

Gabriella smirked, knowing this was far from over. "Suppose so," she said, trying to suppress a sudden urge to laugh. She looked sideways subtly at the boy beside her, only to see he was looking down at his food, smiling widely too.

When Gabriella looked up a moment later, Taylor had resumed her conversation, or rather, debate, with Martha, leaving Troy and Gabriella pretty much alone at the end of the table. Gabriella suddenly felt glad they weren't seated on one of the round tables for that very reason.

"What are those?" Troy asked curiously, indicating towards her brown sandwich bag.

She looked at him skeptically as he chomped on a carrot. "Sandwiches."

Troy rolled his eyes playfully, nuzzling the side of his face with her nose for a moment. "You know what I meant," he replied, dryly.

Gabriella reluctantly reach for the brown bag, tipping her sandwiches onto her tray. They were on semi-brown grainy seed bread, and had some sort of spread inside. "They're marmite sandwiches," she muttered, before picking one up and hungrily biting into it.

"They're what?" he asked, squinting.

"Marmite," she repeated after swallowing. "Well, marmite mixed with butter. It's a bit strong on its own."

"Why have I not heard of this?" Troy asked as though it were an outrage, picking up on of the sandwiches.

"Beats me," she shrugged, taking another bite. "It's European, so you should have really, considering where half your family is from." She smiled at his bemused expression. "Although, it's a love or hate thing, so maybe non of them like it."

Troy looked up from his bemused moment and smiled once he realised Gabriella was giving him direct eye contact with her deep maroon chocolate eyes. There was once a time that would never have happened.

"Hmm, I'll have to ask them..." he murmured, now distracted by the sight of her eyes looking up into his own. "Can I try some?"

She laughed a little to herself. "You really are a curious being," she joked, before a small giggle escaped her lips. She tore off half her next sandwich, passing it to him. "Try at your peril," she warned, before watching with an amused expression as he took a bite of the sandwich containing a buttery paste that was the colour of peanut butter.

He chewed and sat back, thoughtfully. "Not bad," he murmured, to which Gabriella laughed. "What's in it?"

"It's a yeast and vegetable extracts spread, basically," she said as she chewed. "I'm in love with the stuff. So's my mom, so we pay to import it by the truck load."

Troy's eyes creased as he laughed, amused by her honesty.

"You could by some cheaply next time you're in England," she smiled, speaking in a matter-a-fact tone.

"No," he said, chewing the last of it. "_You _will."

"What?" She frowned at him, watching as he leant forward, nearing her face.

"_You'll _be able to get some cheaply from England, because I intend on taking you with me."

Gabriella's head whipped up as she met his eyes with a bemused, shocked expression. She didn't speak, just shook her head slightly, knowing she should feel happy about his invitation.

"What? Don't you _want _to come?" Troy asked, concerned as his hand found hers in her lap.

"Oh, no, no, I do, very much," she reassured, nodding as she took in how close they had become, the length of her thigh against his. "I just don't think I'll be able to afford it––"

"Don't worry about that," Troy smiled casually, the length of his nose suddenly against her forehead as she looked down into her lap and he looked down at her. "Don't you worry,' he murmured, placing a small kiss to her forehead. "You'll fit right in in England," he chuckled lowly. "You're so introspective."

"I know... Do you think it's a bad thing to be?" Gabriella worried, rubbing a shy thumb along his larger nimble fingers where their hands lay in her lap.

"It's a rare thing in this country, it seems," Troy said thoughtfully, before playfully rubbing their hands together. "But it's never a bad thing, baby," he whispered, and as she looked up, he leant down to touch his forehead to hers. "In fact, I wish I were more like you."

Gabriella suddenly laughed quietly, finding the irony of his words amusing. "Well that's silly, considering I have always wished I were more like _you, _Troy."

He grinned, shaking his head a little, disbelieving.

"Would you guys cut it out and eat you friggin' food already?"

The sound of Taylor's sharp voice made Gabriella jump, but as usual, Troy was not alarmed. He just ran a hand down her face for a moment, then turned back to his salad with his free hand.

"Okay," Gabriella smiled, picking up her last sandwich. "Sorry, Tay," she muttered.

Taylor muttered a intelligible remark, making Gabriella laugh.

"Sorry, Taylor," Troy said, gently, with amusement. "I'll let my girlfriend eat, I apologise."

The word 'girlfriend' irked Taylor just as Troy had hoped, causing Taylor to stiffen in her usual overprotective manner. Gabriella suppressed her humour to a wide smile, and watched as Troy chuckled openly at her best friends reaction. A moment later the back of Gabriella's hand came in contact the Troy's hard shoulder in warning, which had the opposite effect, making him chuckle more. After a moment though they were both laughing, his laughter infectious, and as Gabriella tried to calm down and drink some of her water, they both started up again, causing Gabriella to almost choke on the liquid. This made Gabriella laugh and couch simultaneously so hard that she craned forward over the table. Troy's laughter at this level was different, she noted. It went up an octave, making him tip his head back as he whole body shook, just as hers did.

Troy leant towards her, his hand grasping hers as he laughed, hitting her square on her back, stammering "You okay?" though it was clear he wasn't done laughing. He leant into Gabriella as she wiped her chin from the water that spilled. She felt hot, and predicted she was probably red, though whether it was due to the laughter or embarrassment from choking of water, she wasn't sure.

"Oh for crying out loud, shut up. You're like giddy honeymooners," Taylor snapped, trying not to let any amusement leak into her voice for the sake of her pride. Troy chuckled continually, shaking his head as the two settled down again to eat the rest of their food.

Troy and Gabriella's eyes met numerous times and they smiled at each other, sharing silent communication. Suddenly there was a voice, breaking their constant gazing.

"Hey, Troy," cooed a sweet voice. They both looked up, only for Gabriella's stomach to flip at the sight of a sickeningly beautiful cheerleader, named Jessica. Gabriella knew of her, not only because everyone at school did, but because she was a known contemporary and friend of her infamously slutty cousin, Amber. Jessica wasn't like Amber so much though. She wasn't one to cheat with peoples boyfriends, and didn't openly bitch, or sleep with anything that moved. She was beautiful though, with dark brown chestnut hair with a hit of copper, deep green eyes, pink lips, olive, flawless skin with no sign of any blemishes, and obvious immaculate skill with the little make up she did wear. Most of all though, she was perfectly slim, but athletic, a ballerina. She possessed a rare grace, while still being flexible and perfectly at one with her body. She was one of the most athletic girls Gabriella had ever seen, her ballet and cheerleading photos on Facebook proving as much, yet she still always looked like a model. She was beautiful. She was everything. Everything Gabriella was not.

_First, for a long time, her cousin Amber, then, and still, Sharpay, then, at first, Emily, then Lacey, and now Jessica... _Gabriella sighed. Would there ever be a pretty girl that didn't make her feel belittled or frightened to such levels?

_The problems not the pretty girls, _her inner pessimist sneered. _The problem is _you_._

She was thrown as her rare, confident mood was crushed so quickly. She suddenly felt ill with self-abhorrence, and had to look away, scooting away from the beautiful girl, away from Troy.

"Oh, hey, Jess," Troy smiled at her, as she leant on the table.

"Hey, uh, I was just looking to talk to you about something."

"Go ahead," Troy encouraged happily, eating another piece of carrot, turning towards her.

Gabriella couldn't resist the urge to separate herself from him, pulling both her hands from him. He barely seemed to notice.

"Well," came Jessica's voice, "as you probably know, there's now a minor-league girls basketball team, I was just wondering, because we're all new to this, there are a few of us girls who still can't seem to master the three-pointer with the special twist you do on the jump shot... Could you drop by sometime and help us out?"

Gabriella already felt herself automatically shrinking away from the two of them, feeling totally inadequate, ugly and lazy sat next to the two of them, also knowing what a beautiful couple they would make. Gabriella was suddenly conscious of how she had barely any make up on, and her dress, that she had felt good about this morning, now felt totally plain. She could suddenly _feel _the extra weight that folded slightly at her stomach and widened her thighs as she realised how athletic the two beside her were; how well matched. Together they could probably wipe out a whole Olympic team, it seemed.

Gabriella sat with her arms around herself, eating her food as the two conversed. She looked up and noted Taylor rolling her eyes, obviously observing the same.

"Sure, of course I'll help. Just name the day, okay?"

They exchanged more words, then a goodbye, before Jessica left, without addressing anyone else at the table, not even sparing a glance. Gabriella hadn't looked up, but she heard Jessica walk off, and then caught a flash of baby pick from her soft, floaty summer dress as she walked back towards her table.

"Gabi," came a murmur near her ear. She didn't have time to register it, her thoughts running, like a tired marathon. "Baby?" Troy prompted, almost in a whisper, and she realised she had been staring down at her food absentmindedly. He eyes turned to him, though didn't look him directly in the eye. "You okay?" he questioned huskily, concerned.

She considered telling him of her feelings of inadequacy and envy for the beautiful girl, but then she realised that, as kind as he could be, he wouldn't understand. Not with what he looked like. She suddenly realised he'd probably never felt, never mind been called, ugly, fat or lazy, in his life.

"I'm fine," she nodded, hoping her lie was convincing. Taylor was looked at her when she turned forward again, her eyes kind and knowing, making Gabriella sigh inwardly. Taylor knew, even before Gabriella had, that things like would happen.

A best friend's intuition was golden.

Gabriella knew that if she turned now to look at the lunchroom, the majority of gazes she'd meet would be cruel and judgmental, just like her own mind was about herself. She belonged no where in the teen society. She was middle-aged at heart; openminded, a bookworm, introverted and mature. She did not belong here, as a teenager. Just like Troy didn't belong with a girl like her. He deserved someone who could give him everything. Gabriella felt as though she could never really fulfill that brief...

Troy hesitated as she spoke, but nodded, accepting her words, placing his hand over hers on the table and squeezing it. However, even his warm, caring touch could not quench her deep anxiety. Not this time.


	18. A Caveman Thing

A/N: _Hey readers... I don't even know what this chapter is, it just seemed necessary. _  
><em>Please let me know what you think! Just wanna say a HUGE 'THANK YOU' because I have almost reached <strong>TWO THOUSAND<strong> hits JUST **THIS MONTH** on this story! (This story now has a total of **15, 500 ****views! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? **THANK YOU GUYS! Just a shame that not more of you review..._  
><em>ANYWAY, let me know what you think! <em>

_PEACE AND LOVE  
>x x x STARSWalkBACKWARD x x x<em>

* * *

><p><strong>A <strong>**Caveman Thing**

Gabriella's mood didn't shift for the rest of the week, so she hoped the attending Troy's cousins wedding may lift her spirits. She had been considering what it was she should wear throughout the week, and by Friday night, her indecisiveness had only intensified.

"Gabi?" heard her mother call as she racked her brains for outfit ideas. A moment later, her mother's head peeped around the door. "Gabi, don't forget you have your latest physiotherapy appointment next week, okay?"

Gabriella sighed dramatically, feeling her stomach drop to the floor. The one thing she hated more than anything had come around again.

"Oh, _god," _she groaned, pulling at her hair. "Do I have to go? I _hate it."_

Maria sighed, shaking her head wistfully. "I know you do, but you have to go."

"_No, _I don't."

"Yes, you do. Gabi, if you bothered to do your exercises then you wouldn't dread it so much, now would you?"

Gabriella tried to reign in her temper. "It's nothing to do with that, but whatever. I'm not going."

"_Yes, _you are," her mother insisted, getting aggravated.

"I'm seventeen, mom, almost eighteen! Why the hell do I still have to do this crap?"

"_Because, _it's for your own good. Besides, you're not eighteen yet, meaning you still have to go."

Gabriella's lips made a thin line. "Like a few months makes a difference––" she began.

"Gabriella, you're going and that is final," snapped Maria before leaving the room.

Gabriella felt dread fill her as she curled up on the floor by her closet, letting her anger simmer. It was the Friday evening, the night before Troy's cousin's wedding, and Gabriella was stressed about what to wear, and now the revelation of a looming physiotherapy appointment made it all seem so much worse.

She bent over into her closet, looking at her clothes again, when suddenly here was a rapping on the glass of her balcony door. Instantly erecting from her bent over position with her head in her closet, she span round, unsteady on her feet. It took her a moment before she could quite comprehend the fact that Troy Bolton was on her balcony, in green camouflage knee-length shorts and a navy vest. She was conscious of how his shorts shown his masculine sculpted calfs and the hair that grew there, as well as the boyish charm of his flip-flops. His golden skin tone was glowing and his hair, though still shorter, was everywhere. She noted how she could see the veins standing out of his biceps and down his strong, iron-like forearms. His class ring glinted as he ran his fingers along his fist. He smiled crookedly from the other side of the glass.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, opening the balcony door. She instantly felt embarrassed that she was dressed in her sweats with no make up, her room was a mess, clothes on the floor around her closet and her guitar and sheet music sprawled across her double bed.

"I wanted to see you," he replied earnestly, moving one of the many loose tendrils that were in her face away and behind her ear.

"You wanted to see me, to the point where you climbed my balcony," she deadpanned, skeptical, raising an eyebrow. "Wow, and I thought _I _was the stalker, groupie type."

Troy just laughed, the mischievously glint in his eyes almost dangerous. "You're a groupie?"

She closed her eyes, pursing her lips as she considered telling him about her numerous obsessions with movie stars and musicians, but decided against it. "Don't ask."

Troy's animated dark eyebrows were raised in a surprised and humorous expression. "Hmm, I'll find out sometime."

Gabriella just narrowed her eyes at him, as his hand reached for hers. "God," she whispered, hiding her face. "You really have a habit of walking in on me when I'm totally underdressed."

Slowly his hands made their way to her hips, running his thumbs over her hip bones through her sweatpants. He chuckled deeply, a rumble in his chest, nodding slowly. "I do it on purpose," he murmured in smooth, honey voice. "I love you like this," he breathed, before leaning into kiss her lips lightly.

"I look horrible, Troy," she muttered, letting him kiss her.

He shook his head a little. "I don't agree," he whispered, kissing her again.

This still felt alien to her, but he was so familiar now, and getting more and more so. She automatically gripped his upper arms for support as her stomach began fluttering. It was then that she felt his flexing iron bicep muscles under her fingertips, his skin soft and warm, the muscle tissue so strong it was almost as though his skin was wafer thin. She could have sworn he was pretty much one hundred percent muscle. She groaned against his lips.

"What?" he husked, dropping soft open mouth kisses to her jawline.

"Are you trying to kill me?" she murmured, feeling a strange sense of urgency as his lips moved down towards her ear.

The deep rumbling of his chuckle sounded again. "Excuse me?" he whispered. letting a strong forearm circle her lower back to hold her weight.

She pulled back, placing a hand on either of his bare arms, not quite believing that he had no idea what he was doing. "These fucking arms," she told him, as though it were obvious. She leaning into him again as he looked slightly bemused. "How dare you come in here with them so uncovered like this?" she murmured, running a hand through the front of his hair and gripping it, kissing him softly on his soft, shaven cheek.

He took in a deep breath as he pulled back slightly, an amused smirk on his face. "Miss Montez," he murmured slowly. "Are you trying to tell me my arms turn you on?"

Gabriella rolled her eyes, closing them for a moment, before laughing to herself. "Not just your arms," she whispered, before turning away and walking over to sit on her bed. He followed, bemused, but still smirking.

"What was that now?" he asked, trying to keep his amusement at bay.

At she sat on the edge of the bed, he grinned at her lopsidedly from a meter away.

Gabriella shrugged, looking down at her lap. He walked toward the brunette on the bed. "_I_ turn you on," he said, not a question, but a statement.

Gabriella huffed, blushing. "Duh!"

He smiled, satisfied, leaning down to kiss her head, surprising Gabriella as she hadn't expected it. "Good to know my attraction to you isn't wasted then," he said, trying to sound nonchalant as he sat down beside her.

Moving her guitar off the bed, Gabriella flopped back onto it, laying on her back. Troy moved to lie next to her, leaning on his elbow. This made Gabriella even more distracted, as his bicep muscle bulged. She swallowed, looking back at the ceiling.

"I've barely seen you these last few days," he murmured, leaning over to cup her jaw with his palm. "I've missed you."

Little did he know, she had been avoiding him a little while she hoped and prayed that all the gossip would die down. She looked across at him, smiling, touched by his words. "I've missed you, too."

There was a gap between them around the length of a ruler, and as Troy tried to pull her into his side, she winced. He instantly sat up, lookIng down at her as she tried to hide her wincing.

"What's wrong?"

Gabriella shook her head, putting all her weight on her arms to pull herself upright. This did not go unnoticed by Troy. "Just my, my back."

Troy frowned, not understanding, but filled with concern. "Did something happen?"

She shook her head again. "Nah, It's just another side affect of my..." she stopped short, only just managing not to visibly cringe at the word that she had almost spoken out loud: _disability. _"It's been extra knotted up since the champagne cork incident."

Troy frowned, pressing his lips together, his brows knitting together in thought. A moment later, he got up from the bed, picking up her long vanity table stool with one strong hand. Bring it to the edge of the bed, he turned to her. "Sit," he commanded gently, patting the stool.

"What are you going to do?" she asked cautiously as she clambered completely inelegantly off the bed and onto the stool, a leg either side, straddling it.

"I'm going to get some of these said knots out."

Gabriella turned to him, brows raised as he sat behind her, a leg on either side of the stool as well, leaning a little against the bed. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" she asked, slightly worried.

She couldn't see him, but she was sure he was grinning crookedly. She jumped to hear his voice in her ear a moment later.

"Gabriella, I'm a basketball player. I know a thing or two about muscles, since we do have rundowns. Plus, my mom's a doctor."

She tensed at the mention of his mother, as he still didn't know that she had once been treated by his mother for physiotherapy. It seemed that his mother didn't want him to know either, and so Gabriella felt awful even at the sight of Lucille, because she was conscious of how she hadn't told Troy the depth of their knowing each other, when maybe she should have. She took in a breath, suddenly aware of how close her back was to his front. "I know that," she muttered, smirking with amusement after a moment. "I mean, it's not hard to see you know a thing or two about muscles, Troy..."

He chuckled darkly, leaning his forehead against her shoulder for a moment, nuzzling his face there affectionately. "So do you, it seems," he murmured.

"Only what goes wrong, and only because it's my job to know," she muttered. "My muscles are certainly not to be desired that's for sure."

Troy frowned, deciding to ignore her dig at herself. "Where does it hurt?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"Everywhere, but that's normal," she sighed. "If you insist on doing this, just...start from the top."

Troy lifted his hands to her shoulders, slowly pressing his thumbs into her lower neck and shoulders, kneading slowly.

She sucked in a breath, and he instantly dropped his hands. "My shoulder," she muttered, shuddering slightly at the memory of Kingston assaulting her shoulder with his mouth.

Troy's brows knitted together in realisation. "Shit, I'm sorry," he muttered apologetically. "How is it?" He pulled her t-shirt slowly to the side to see if he could see for himself.

"The bruising's going down," she whispered. "It doesn't hurt as much anymore."

"That bastard," he whispered, placing his lips to one of the marks that he could reach, then another. "Brie," he whispered when she didn't speak or move. She was trembling slightly, and it was only then he realised she was probably reliving the incident. "Baby?" he whispered against her shoulder.

"I'm okay," she reassured instantly, though she was still haunted by memories.

"Brie, we need to talk about this." His hands circled her waist. "What he did, that was assault."

"It's nothing, I'm fine."

"It's not nothing, Gab."

"_Yes, _it is. Especially when you start a fight and get suspended from work over it. Yes, it _should _be nothing."

"Don't worry about me," he whispered. "My bruises are almost all gone now," she reminded her, and she realised he was right. His face barely looked bruised at all, and he hadn't complained about her ribs either, "Plus, the fight wasn't on school grounds so they needn't know about it. I'm just worried about you."

"Well, don't be," she commanded. "I've been through some serious _shit _in my life. Believe me, I'll be okay with this."

"Gab, what he did, it was _sexual _assault––"

She tensed at the term. "––Don't. Please, Troy. It's not important. I just want to forget it. Please. As long as I have you, it's okay."

Troy sighed, nodding against her shoulder. He raised his hands to her back again, and, avoiding her bruised shoulder, he began to knead again. He began processing her words in his mind, particularly the part about having been through some 'serious shit' as she put it. He dreaded what this could mean, and he felt his infamous curiousity begin to bubble to the surface. Thankfully, he managed to pressure it back down again.

He reached her shoulder blades with his kneading hands and heard her wince and wilt under his strong hands. He retraced his steps, trying to find the exact source of point in that one area. His thumbs met something that felt almost like a round, circular bone sticking up ever so slightly as he pressed into her skin through her light, tight-fitting t-shirt.

She was wincing the moment his thumbs came in contact with the solid area.

"Jesus _Christ _Brie," he breathed, aghast and guilty, trying to be gentle while also attempting to straighten out the knot under his hands. "These knots feel like they're made of bone. They're _solid_." The 'V' appeared between his brows, as he felt desperate to rid her of her pain.

"I know," she mumbled, as though this was normal.

He frowned in concentration, hearing her breathing speed as she tried to withstand the pain. "You're tight as a drum, Gabriella, like, _all _over," he muttered as he tried another spot, only to find it was as tense and knotted as the last. "It is always like this?"

"_Ow, ow," _she breathed, feeling his strong hands pressing on one of the many very tender areas. "Yeah, it is," she replied absentmindedly. "I just can't normally feel it because I'm, _ow, _used to it."

His fingers circled her ribs as his thumbs carried on their bittersweet torture. "So, the way you walk makes your muscles knot?" he guessed. She tensed, and nodded reluctantly, having never heard him refer to her walking like that before. "How much does it hurt," he murmured, concerned. "Scale of one to ten?" A moment later he pressed down hard on another muscle knot. Tensing her entire back, shrinking under his hands. Gabriella choked out and gasped.

"Nine," she spoke through gritted teeth. "It's getting better though," she muttered. "The champagne incident just knocked everything even more out of whack is all, so it's even worse right now."

Troy frowned as his thumbs carried on moving further down, conscious of how knotted her back muscles truly were. It knew himself how uncomfortable a muscle knot could be, so he could only imagine the amount of discomfort she felt on a daily basis.

"Ow," she groaned as he moved his hands lower, her entire back obviously hurting her. Her lower back with just as locked as the rest he realised as he pressed his thumbs into the dip of her lower back, just above the beginning of her lower-riding sweatpants. He felt her whole body tense under his touch, resulting in a groan from her lips, and he murmured a soft apology. Suddenly feeling sentimental, Troy cuddled against Gabriella from behind, laying his head on her shoulder again for a moment as his arm circled all the way around her small waist.

"I honestly can't believe you have to deal with all of this," he murmured, speaking against her shoulder. She leant backwards, into his touch, basking in the heat of his skin. "I've realised that I'm forever underestimating you. Maybe one day I'll be able to do you justice in the way I think of you."

Gabriella was sure she had never heard anything more endearing before. She paused, conscious suddenly of his breath on the back of her neck. His lips, hot and moist, were pressed against the top of her spine, just above wear her t-shirt ended.

Gabriella got up, turning to meet him, and as though their minds were connected, Troy did the same. Both his strong arms circled her, her lips inches from his. Troy's tongue darted over his lower lip as he squinted questioningly. He began rubbing his hands up and down the expanse of her back firmly, attempting to sooth and calm the muscles he had just rubbed to be angry sore.

Gabriella suddenly smiled, a shy, soft expression, as she looked up at his blue emotive eyes. Her hands gripped his bare biceps, keeping her eyes locked on his as she squeezed the iron muscles bravely. "You want to know something?" she whispered as she bottom lip caught between her teeth. She suddenly felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the room. "I quite like the idea of a rubdown."

Her words had the desired effect, as she watched his cyan eyes darken and his pupils dilate. His arms gripped her even closer as he took a deep breath. "Do you now? Well, I'm sure I could arrange that..." he flirted in return, moving to kiss her, only to be stopped short as Gabriella pulled her head away slightly.

She nibbled her lower lip again, taking a breath, feeling her bravery levels boost. "I wasn't," she took another breath, "talking about _me_," she whispered slowly with a slight grin, running her nails gently down his bulged biceps, her eyes on his. Suddenly, a primal growling like groaning noise rose from deep within his chest where it pressed against hers, a slow crooked grin appearing on his face, showing a row of glowing white teeth. He shook his head slightly, disbelieving, letting out a shaky breath, feeling his arousal growing in his cargo shorts. "Holy shit, Gabriella," he husked, delicately rubbing her back with his fingertips. "I'm beginning to think it's not just your drunk side that's the brazen one," he husked. "Where have you been hiding?" He stroked a hand down the side of her face, and after a moment their lips met as both Gabriella's hands twisted into his hair, letting his strong arms encircle around her back completely. They stumbled back onto the bed after a moment, Troy taking a seat on the edge of the bed, causing Gabriella to automatically straddle his lap, which was a slight challenge with her tight inner thigh muscles. He held her as she almost fell, his lips never leaving hers as he chuckled a little, stroking her hair in reassurance. The sound of their lips moving together was intoxicating, something Gabriella never thought she would experience. His hands moved into her hair, as hers remained threaded through his. His hands ran up and down her ribs, just as they had last time. She felt slight firmness under her thighs where she straddled him, but she daren't look.

"Uh," she groaned, trying to pull away. "Troy, we have to stop," she whispered, as his lips moved down her neck.

"No, we don't," he husked playfully, his lips following a slow, burning trail from her sternum back up the other side of her neck, to behind her ear, nibbling sensually with his teeth. She had never felt such sensations before.

"How do you..._do_ that?" she questioned breathlessly.

Troy grinned against her neck, just below her ear. "Years of practice," he joked, before his lips touched just under her ear again.

"You don't say," she giggled in reply, but soon lost her breath again as he sucked hard on the skin under the cover of her hair, just under her ear. Gabriella felt as though her whole body was on fire as she ran her fingernails over his back muscles over his shirt, groaning as their lips met again, heated and tingling. When he made no attempt to halt his affections, she groaned again. "Troy," she croaked, pulling his face from hers with a hand on each of his cheeks. "My mom's downstairs," she reminded regretfully.

The fire behind his emotive blue eyes began to diminish back to its usual playful spark. He nodded after a moment, but not before placing one last peck to her lips. She stiffly climbed off his lap to lay down on her back on the bed. In doing so, her hip joint locked during rotation, just as it had in her room at the beginning of the week. She sucked in a breath through the pain, rubbing the joint instantly with her fingers.

"Hip locked?" he questioned, his tone sympathetic, to which she nodded.

"It's okay," she whispered, lifting her leg to stretch hit out, trying to unlock the joint that was filled with lactic acid. "It'll pass."

"How does it happen?" he asked, still confused. "I mean, what made it happen now compared to any other time?"

"It's because I stretched my joints more than they can, by, by, uh..." she struggled with the world, feeling a blush creep up her neck, "by straddling you. My hips can't stretch as far as everyone else's because, as I said the other day, my muscles are too short. It results in the hip locking."

Troy smiled a little, shaking his head. "You're so smart," he muttered as he watched her rub her hip, reaching to smooth her hair. "My poor baby," he whispered. "Is it feeling better now? Is there anything I can do?"

She smiled lopsidedly. "Yes, and no," she answered, feeling the burning pain in his hip subside. She relaxed into the fabric underneath her, feeling totally flustered and mussed, her curls were frizzy and ruffled and had fallen almost completely free of her hair tie. Her lips felt swollen from the pressure of his own against hers. Her body was buzzing with adrenaline as her heart was screaming for her to pounce on him. Meanwhile though, her brain counteracted with every explanation as to why she couldn't.

She sighed, closing her eyes as she leant up on her elbow, trying to pull a hand through her now unruly tendrils. "Wow," she whispered, in awe and shock as to what had just occurred.

Troy was lying next to her on his back, his head turned towards her as he watched her reaction. "Yeah, wow," he confirmed, as he truly did feel the same.

"I've never, uh," she tried, her voice and breathing shaky. "I've never been kissed like that before."

Troy was still trying to catch his breath as well. "Nor me," he agreed lowly without thinking. Gabriella opened her eyes, turning her head to face him, her eyes squinted skeptically. "Liar," she murmured with a smile.

He looked back at her, his eyes squinted also, but in confusion. "No, I mean it," he reassured earnestly. "No one has ever kissed me like that before."

"Like what? What _did_ I kiss you like?" she asked, her voice also inaudible as she watched him watch her, almost enchanted.

"Like you had to kiss me or you'd die." He shook his head, his brows knitted together, nudging closer so the two of them were only inches away. "That sense of..._urgency _you had...that _I _had... No one's ever... _I've _never..." He trailed off, sighing with frustration at his lack of way with words.

Gabriella nodded against the covers beneath her head. "I know. Same here..."

Troy smiled, chuckling deeply as he lay an arm over the curve of her hips, his fingers drawing soothing, burning patterns. "Brie, you've _only_ ever been kissed by me," he teased knowingly, loving to watch her neck and cheeks enflame and her anger frown appear.

"_So?_" she snapped, lowering her voice the moment she heard how harsh she sounded. "Doesn't mean I didn't feel it," she argued stubbornly. "Besides, you're not exactly complaining."

Troy chuckled unreservedly, tipping his hair back before looking back at her stubborn expression with a closed-mouth grin. "No, of course I'm not," he reassured, licking his lip. "Gabriella, I _like_, no, I _love _the fact that you've never done any of this with anyone else." All humour gone, he inclined toward her so their noses touched where they lay side by side. "The fact that you feel all this passion yet you've never done anything like this before... The idea that only _I _have made you all mussed up and disheveled; that these lips have only ever been kissed and made swollen by me, and no one else; the idea that you lay completely untouched, except for where _my_ hands have been... It's just, it's all so..." he paused for breath, gripping her hip, "fucking sexy," he finished, and for a moment there was total quiet except for the sound of Gabriella trying to breath. She felt hot and flustered, so quickly scrambled for something to say.

"So...it's a territorial caveman thing?" she teased, acting as though she didn't feel the sexual tension, because it was the only way to ensure she didn't go too far with her mother just downstairs.

Troy burst into laughter at her comment, causing her to shush him. As she curled her legs up where they both lay on their sides on the bed facing each other, and a moment later he did the same, so their limbs were caught up and tangled together. Troy's lips planted a gentle kiss on her lips as they laughed.

"Yeah," he agreed, taking in a deep breath and relaxing even more into their curled up position. "It's a caveman thing," he confirmed humorously, absentmindedly running a hand up and down her back as his hot lips found her hairline.

"It's so refreshing, how I can be myself with you," she murmured, placing a shy hand over his. "I'm just all so new to this, and...well, never thought it would actually happen."

Troy expression was thoughtful. "To be honest, neither did I... I agree though, it _is_ refreshing, being able to be myself with you too."

"I just worry sometimes, that I'll be too shy or say something to weird, and you'll––"

"I'll, what? Go off you?" He scoffed, his dark eyebrows moving animatedly. "Hardly."

There was quiet. Troy looked across at her face, only to see her eyes drooping. "Comfy?" he questioned, amused.

"Yeah. I love my bed," she breathed with a small smile, nuzzling her face into the soft top quilt. Suddenly, she opened her maroon chocolate eyes, meeting his cobalt gaze where his face lay on the quilt only inches from hers. He smiled, noting how lovely and innocent she looked with her face nuzzling in the soft material.

Suddenly, she was giggling.

"What?" he questioned softly.

"I remember, once, when I first got this bed, the my mom's boyfriend at the time assembled it wrong so all the slats kept falling out because the mattress was too heavy." She giggled again, her eyes not quite meeting his as she remembered. "And then, there was a party, and some of my neighbours insisted they could fix it, but they didn't, so when they jumped on it to prove a point, it collapsed completely." She laughed at the memory, causing Troy to smile endearingly. "I swear, their faces were priceless." After a moment, she smirked, coming back to the present. "So, as you can see Bolton, this bed has seen quite a bit of action," she teased, smiling coquettishly.

Troy returned the same expression, with the addition of a skillfully raised dark eyebrow, pulling her body to his suddenly. "It'll see more sooner or later, baby," he whispered.

Gabriella played coy, biting her lip. "Are you sure it can take it?" she asked, feigning innocence, enjoying this game.

Troy pulled her up so his strong bicep became a pillow for her head, his other arm around her back, this way he could see into those maroon, chocolate eyes directly, and she couldn't look away. "Well, I'm not so sure..." he murmured, running his index finger down the curve of her cheek and over her slightly parted swollen pink lips. "We'll have to experiment sometime," he murmured, and the two both suddenly felt the weight of his promise in the heat of the room. Gabriella felt fierce butterflies flutter in her stomach as he heart skipped at the idea of..._experimenting _with Troy Bolton..._in her bed. _

"I'd like that,"a voice husked, though it sounded nothing like her own. She leant up to kiss him on her own accord, which surprised them shocked her, how at ease with physical contact she was becoming, having never done _anything _with any guy before Troy. His lips were gentle, almost hesitant, against hers. After a moment, she pulled away, opening her eyes to see fiery, curious blue eyes looking down at her.

Suddenly there was a buzzing, and Troy shifted, pulling his arm from around her, pulling his phone from his pocket. He looked at the screen for a nanosecond, then shifted to sit up. "My mom wants me back," he explained.

"Yeah, you should probably go," Gabriella murmured as she sat up. As they untangled their legs, his muscular and powerful and hers boney and awkward, Troy held out his arms as she clambered to her knees on the bed shakily, letting her use him for balance. She blushed, hesitant to accept help from him, as climbing off a bed should be an easy task, as it indeed _was _for most people. But she wasn't most people.

"Thanks," she mumbled as she put all her weight on his arms until she was upright and able to get off the bed. She noted him shift position as she stood up, and as she looked away to the bed for balance, she could have sworn she saw him readjust..._himself_...inside the front of his cargo shorts...

_No, surely not._

"I don't want to," he murmured in return, his tone sounding surprised, as she sat on the edge of her bed. He came to stand in front of her.

"_Gee_, you don't have sound so surprised about it," she commented dryly, slightly hurt, though in her tone she was pretending to be offended.

"No, no," he defended, quickly leaning down to her eye level, cupping both her upper arms with his hands, "It's just... I never realised it was possible to become addicted to someone so quickly," he murmured earnestly. Gabriella's brows knitted together in disbelief. "As you said, it's refreshing...if not a little strange..."

"I know what you mean," she whispered, suddenly distant and deep in thought.

"About tomorrow... I'll pick you up at two tomorrow, okay?" When she looked back at him and nodded with a small smile, he leant over, pressing a soft kiss on her hairline. "I'll miss you," he murmured. She pushed to stand, and once she was upright, she looked him in the eye, a ghost of a disbelieving smile on her features.

"I'll miss you, too, Troy," she muttered, _Too much. _

"I should hope so," he remarked as she curled her arms around his neck, placing a gentle, shy kiss on the side of his neck as she hugged him. His skin soft and warm and he smelt gorgeous, of Old Spice and something else; a scent unique to him. He hummed a sound of satisfaction at the feeling of her lips against the sensitive skin at the junction between his shoulder and neck.

"I'll text you later," he muttered earnestly, before reluctantly letting go of her and walking over to her balcony. Watching him go, she sighed, slowly picking up her guitar as he began to climb over the balcony. With one final wave and one final crooked smile, he disappeared from view, and just like that, Gabriella was alone again with her worries. However, this time, Troy Bolton's blue eyes were radiant in her memory, providing a much needed silver lining to her anxiety ridden thoughts as she nervously awaited meeting the the entire Bolton clan.

_I must be crazy, _she said to herself as she began wringing her hands again. _I'm letting _him _in; him! A _jock! She closed her eyes._ Oh but what a sweet and beautiful, _beautiful _jock he is..._ Realisation hit._ I just made out with Troy Bolton on my bed, and told him I wanted to rub him down... _She began to cringe and swoon at the same time.

Suddenly needing some air, she made her way out her bedroom door and down the stairs to find her mother, hoping to leave racy her thoughts behind, thankful she had something else to focus on: After all, she still needed a wedding outfit...


	19. Lipstick and Safety Pins

A/N: _Hey guys! Oh my god, so, summer's almost over already?! What? Where did all my 'writing' time go? Gaaaah._

_So, yeah, I start Sixth Form Wednesday. HOW IS THIS? _

_Anyway, so, I've written and written and rewritten this chapter and I think I'm finally satisfied enough to post it, 'cuz I know you guys have been waiting..._

_So ta-da. _

_Oh, btw, I just remembered about how some of you were saying that you still can't quite visualise how Gabriella, and I, walk, so, I've tried to describe it in my writing as best I can. If you guys want, I can record a quick video of me walking, even though it'd totally make me cringe, if that would help? Let me know what you guys think about this... _

_Anyway, enjoy!  
>(God, just realised how long this chapter is - longest yet! HAHA.)<em>

_PEACE & LOVE,_  
><em>x x x STARSWalkBACKWARD x x x<em>

* * *

><p><em>"We used to be so so soulful<em>  
><em>Al Green on the background vocals<em>  
><em>T-Total we're on the next high<em>  
><em>We get by with a so called soul mate made for each other chit chat<em>  
><em>But that dried up wise up to the cutting edge facts<em>  
><em>Now I'm chilling on my Jack Jones<em>  
><em>Looking for a way back home but I can't get back<em>

_Our love feels wrong please wind it back_  
><em>Our love feels wrong can't hide the cracks<em>  
><em>I guarantee you'll miss me 'cause you changed the way you kiss me."<em>

––_'You Changed The Way You Kissed Me' - _Example.

* * *

><p><strong>Lipstick and Safety Pins<strong>

"Be careful," came Taylor's voice down the phone line, repeating the same line twice.

"I will, Tay," Gabriella sighed reluctantly as she cradled her phone between her ear and shoulder, speaking as she packed her small clutch bag with essentials such as her glasses, a compact, spare blister pads and her favourite red lipstick.

"Oh really? You call what you did last night _careful?"_

"We just kissed..." Gabriella mumbled quietly.

_ "Just_ _kissed_? Oh, _please. _Say the words, Gabi, _making out_. You made out, and_ just making out _withTroy Bolton isn't nothing._.._"

"I know, I know that. I _was _careful. We didn't _do _anything, I told you."

"You made out, on your bed. He massaged you! Your mom was downstairs for christ sake!"

Gabriella closed her eyes, feeling totally emotionally disorientated. "I know...But he was so gentle and sweet, Tay, really he was. I couldn't just turn him away, could I? No guy has ever been this nice to me before."

Taylor took in a deep breath, obviously thinking. "That's what worries me, Gabi. You'll listen to anyone who compliments you, you know that. In fact, we _both _do that. You more than me though..."

Gabriella knew this was true. It was one of her many vices: becoming extremely gullible when given compliments by someone she admired, even if she didn't know them. She chewed her lip, tired of talking about things she couldn't change. "Tay, I'll be fine. It's just a wedding."

"A wedding to which you were invited by _Troy Bolton, _and you're_ staying over," _Taylor replied quickly, before pausing to sigh. "He's a jock, Gabi."

"_So?_" Gabriella asked, slightly exasperated, though she could secretly see exactly what her friend was getting at.

_ "So, _I don't trust him," Taylor replied, forceful as ever.

"Yeah," Gabriella deadpanned as she brushed her hair with her spare hand, trying to calm her anxiety. "I think I've got that by now."

"There's just something..._off _about him."

"I think you're imagining things, Taylor."

There was a pause.

"Gabi, you realise he's not a virgin..."

Gabriella huffed, trying not to get irritated with her friend. "No, _really?_ I'd never have guessed..." she deadpanned, this time her voice oozing with sarcasm. "Nothing's going to happen, Tay. Who do you think I am?"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, Gabi, I just meant that you have to realise what you're getting into. I saw how dejected you felt earlier this week, Gabi. I'm your best friend, I could tell, and I just don't want you to get sucked in too deep before you know what you're in for... The last thing you want is to constantly feel like you're not worthy for someone that you've already fallen for."

Gabriella was silent for a minute, trying in vain to swallow the lump of tears that was lodged in her throat. Her tears were mostly the anxiety that had been building over the last few days, and now, hearing the truth that she had been trying to ignore from the mouth of her best friend, made it suddenly more real. She felt the weight of her looming commitment to Troy on her shoulders, and knew that tonight would have to be the night to talk to Troy about her worries, which she dreaded doing. "Yeah," she croaked in a whisper down the line. "Yeah I get that," Gabriella said as she will the tears in her eyes not to fall, only for one to drop heavily onto the bed beneath her, and another hitting her lower lip. She quickly dashed them away, trying not to smudge her make up. "I'm nervous about it all, but somehow I think it won't nearly be as bad as I'm anticipating... I'll talk to him about it all, Tay. He's a good listener."

"Mm-hmm," came Taylor's sarcastic murmur.

"_Gabi!" _came the sound of Maria Montez from the floor below.

"I have to go, Tay. He's here."

"Okay. Let me know how it goes, okay?"

Gabriella chewed anxiously at a thumbnail. "Okay," she agreed. "Speak soon, Tay."

"I'll be waiting! And be careful!" came Taylor's voice with a slight humourous tone before she put down the phone, to which Gabriella found herself giggling. Typical protective Taylor, trusted no one.

As she grabbed her handbag, plus an overnight bag, and checked herself one last time in the mirror, sighing at the hopeless sight she saw. She held her maxi dress slightly to stop her glitter heels from catching under her feet as she turned to the top of the stairs. She could hear her mother talking animatedly along with a deeper, smooth male voice. She sucked in a breath as her heels sounded on the stairs, one foot after the other.

Moving into the kitchen, she felt slightly more confident, loving the way the maxi dress flowed gracefully, even when someone as awkward as her was wearing it. The white cotton merged into blue and pink floral patterns at the bottom of the dress that touched the top of her shoes and around the waist and chest area. The straps were thin, and sat straight, meeting the dress quite low down her back. She didn't need a bra with this dress either due to its built in design, which made her feel more attractive. Her make up was her usual eyeliner and mascara, with some darker eyeshadow thrown in and her usual favourite red lipstick.

_Hmm, _she mused, noting yet another mood swing. _Obviously today was an up-_and_-down day._

She stood straighter in her heels as she met Troy's gaze as she entered her kitchen. He was stood in a very elegant classic tux, black dress pants, jacket and bow tie, as well as a very neat looking dark grey waistcoat. His hair was neatly gelled, his pointed dress shoes so well polished you could almost see your reflection. His blue eyes were soft and emotive, as always, as a relaxed smile made its way across his features. He looked simply ravishing.

"Hey," Gabriella greeted him from across the room, shy due to the fact her mother was observing the two of them.

"Oh, well Gab, don't you look lovely?" her mother gushed, causing Gabriella to blush and curl slightly into herself.

"_Mom,_" she groaned as Maria moved to kiss her lightly. "Shouldn't we be getting going?" Gabriella hinted, looking at Troy with desperate eyes.

"Yes, we should. Don't want to be late," Troy said with a hint of a smile. He moved around towards the front door, followed closely by Gabriella.

"Text me later, okay?" asked Maria gently as she hugged her daughter for a moment. Gabriella agreed, before walking towards Troy's truck. He was stood by her passenger door, holding it open.

"Alright?" he questioned softly, noting her cautious attitude as she took a step into his truck in her heels. She nodded, noticeably quiet as she settled into the seat.

He climbed into his seat a moment later, softly smiling in her direction. There was a pause, and they regarded each other with soft, shy smiles.

"You look _so_ lovely," Troy smiled, leaning over to kiss her cheek, slowly, breathing in her perfume. She blushed, nuzzling her forehead onto the nook of his shoulder, basking in the scent of Old Spice. He turned his head to the side, his dark cyan eyes searching until they met those of the introspective brunette beside him. "Really, you do," he whispered. "You're just so, _so_ pretty."

His smile warmed her heart, and the close proximity of their bodies making the whole situation even more surreal. "I really don't, but thanks," she mumbled into his shoulder.

"Shame about this bruise though," he muttered, skimming his fingertips over the bruise on her shoulder that Kingston had caused.

"It really bothers you, eh?" She stroked his cheek. "It doesn't hurt. It's fading now, anyway. I'm okay," she reassured.

Troy sighed, but smiled wider, looking past Gabriella to check to see if her mother was watching.

"She'll probably be watching," Gabriella said softly, even though she doubted she would be. Her eyes leveled with his square jaw as they were both leaning over the gear-stick.

He looked down at her, making out the soft glitter of her golden tan eye-shadow and skillfully lined eyes, not that she needed it in his opinion. Her lipstick was red, as it had been a few times before when they'd been together and he suddenly felt the urge to kiss it off so it transferred to him instead; marking himself while marking his territory as well, so to speak. He leant in to kiss her to do just that, only for her to lean back into her seat a little, away from him.

He opened his eyes, looking at her questioningly.

"My lipstick," she whispered in warning.

He smiled, a cheeky glint in his eye. "I was just thinking how lovely it looked..." his face nearing hers as Gabriella felt her breathing shallow. "You like that red, don't you?"

She swallowed, nodding helplessly, feeling his breath across her face.

"Do you think it would look as good on me as it does on you?" he grinned, leaning his lips even closer to hers.

Gabriella, very deliberately, shrugged and sunk her teeth into her lower lip. Troy then swooped down, pressed his lips to hers, feeling the texture of her make up against his lips as well as the soft feeling of her skin. He pressed numerous pecks onto her soft lips, enjoying the feeling of his fingers in her soft, long hair. She pressed both her hands to his chest, letting him pull his face from hers.

"Mmmm," hummed Gabriella in satisfaction. She opened her eyes, taking in the sight of him smiling crookedly with the smear of red lipstick across his lips. "Hmmm...Aw, now look at you..." she murmured thoughtfully, her lips inches from his. "Nah," she decided, studying his face for a minute. "It's not your colour," Gabriella giggled, leaning forward to kiss his lips once more, before pushing her palm against his lips to push his face away playfully. He lolled back his head lazily, chuckling.

"Ohhh," he chuckled, reaching to rub the lipstick from his lips, inspecting his mouth in his mirror. "Well, it's going to have to be, because I hope to get it on me more often," he grinned, wriggling his eyebrows at her in the reflection of the mirror.

"You'd be so lucky, Bolton," she giggled, speaking dryly.

He chuckled some more, running a tongue along his lower lip. As he jutted out his chin to rub it, Gabriella noted how attractive he looked, inspecting himself in the mirror, and the fact he didn't even know it made him all the more so.

"We better get going, shall we?" he spoke after a moment, causing Gabriella to snap back to the present and out of her thoughts.

Gabriella smiled shyly, her nerves returning. "I guess so."

As they began to drive away, Gabriella's thoughts began to run away with her like a freight train, causing her to jump when she felt the gentle warmth of Troy's left hand curling around her own in her lap.

"Nervous?" Troy checked, indicating as he turned onto the main road.

"Uh, yeah, just a little," she giggled with slight sarcasm.

"Don't worry, me too," said Troy softly. "Though I'm not sure why."

"You shouldn't be, Troy. They're your family."

He smiled at her as he switched his gaze from the road to her and back again, his eyes light against the dark colour of his suit. "Of course I should. They're all going to be meeting you, and that makes me nervous."

"What, worried they'll get out the baby pictures and tell embarrassing stories?"

"Well, yes, but I'm not worried for myself... I just don't want them to scare you away. You're just...too important."

"I'm..._I'm_ important?" Gabriella frowned, not quite being able to comprehend such words coming from East High's most popular NVP.

Troy squinted, lifting their joined hands to playful flick the pad of his thumb against her cheek. "_Of course_ you are, especially to me..." He shrugged, the hint of a blush spreading up his neck and cheeks. "You're so important to me now. I just, I, I couldn't––

Sensing his trouble with putting his feelings into words, she stepped in. "I understand."

He turned his head to look at her again, taking an extra second to take her in. A second too long in her opinion as she swatted him on the bicep.

"Eyes on the road!" she scolded him, making him grin.

"You're such a worrier," he chuckled, smoothing a gentle thumb over her boney knuckles, as he kept one hand on the wheel.

"I'm not a worrier, I'm just conscious of the importance of common sense."

The grin stretch across his face reached new levels as he suppressed laughter. "I know, baby, I've noticed."

He only looked at the straight road ahead for a few seconds before looking back at her again.

"Troy!" she scolded instantly. "The road!"

He chuckled louder, lifting their connected his hands to affectionately kiss the back of her hand, still grinning.

"What? I'm _trying_ to keep my eyes on the road, honestly, but with you here looking so lovely right next to me? Can you blame me? WOuld you rather I didn't admire you?"

His line was so cheesy she broke into giggles, using both hands to cover her mouth, breaking their hand holding. "Oh _wow. _What _lines_," she teased, watching as Troy feigned being wounded, a hand on his chest.

"Ouch, Montez, just when I was trying to be nice."

She gave him a sideways look, before reaching over and pinching his cheek as though he were a baby.

"Aw, I'm sure you'll find another opportunity, you cheesy boy," she cooed, giggling.

"Uh, do you mind?" he asked incredulously. "I'm _trying_ to _drive_."

"Sorry," Gabriella muttered instantly.

There was a pause before she realised he was joking, which he confirmed by flashing a wide smile at her.

"I'm kidding, dork," he chuckled affectionately, repeating words he had used on her once before. He observed her head drop slightly, her gaze far away, and he knew she was analysing everything that was being done and said. He quickly smooth a hand over her head, through her hair, being her back.

He observed, fascinated, as her gaze sharped, her attention centering, focusing back on the present and out of her thoughts. "Huh? What?" she questioned and though he had called her name.

He longed to know what she was thinking, but instead chose just to smile and leave it. "Nothin'," he said, shaking his head a little as he took her hand gently again. "Nothin', baby."

Gabriella bit back the urge to ask a million and one questions.

There was quiet for a good few minutes.

"Oh, Troy," she sighed, gazing at their joined hands. "Thank you," came Gabriella's voice after the silence.

"What for?" Troy asked, confused.

"For caring for me, when it's not your job to..." she began, then took a metal step back. "Just...for caring."

Troy chewed the inside of his lower lip for a moment, touched by her grateful attitude. "I tried to tell myself not to get so worried about you...so wound up––so did Chad actually, numerous times––but it didn't seem to work. I'm just even more conscious of you now, where you are, what you're doing..." As they stopped at a light, Troy leant over the gear stick once more, pressing their foreheads together. "I think of you, worry about you, every moment of _every_ day now, yet I've only known you properly for a maximum of four weeks...and I'm not a hundred per cent sure why... Isn't that crazy?"

Gabriella felt her heart hammering, not quite believing what she was hearing. She was transfixed by the sight of his deep eyes, filled with countless hues of blue and tiny flecks of gold and green.

Suddenly, a horn sounded, making her jump. "Troy, _the road!" _

In fresh fits of, what can only described as, giggles, Troy, calm and unfazed, no surprise, moved back fully into his seat and stepped on the accelerator. Gabriella shook her head disapprovingly at him.

"You're so weird," she stated, though with affection rather than malice.

"That makes two of us then, I suppose," he teased, grinning with a squint in her direction.

"Huh, _charmer,_" she chided, but a moment later giggled, remembering all the times _she _herself had been called apparent insults such as 'weird.' "Yeah," she chuckled, realising he was exactly correct. "Yeah, I guess it most certainly does."

༻༺

"Gabriella," Troy muttered, his hand circling the brunette's beside him. "Elle," he urged, his voice a whisper. She turned her head to him shyly, gripping his wrist with her other hand. He felt his brows knit together at he felt her tremble slightly under his hand. "Aw, you're shaking, baby," he cooed softly, with a extra warm tone to his voice. She gripped their joined hands after a moment.

"I am?" She tried to take a drag of fresh air as they stood against the side of his truck. She looked down at her hand, only to see that she was indeed trembling. "Oh yeah," she realised, her voice trembling also. "Sorry."

Troy smiled, bemused by why on earth she would feel the need to apologise. She was too kind, too generous. He turned and stood in front of her, blocking out the sun. She expected him to give her twenty questions to answer, but instead he just took her in his arms, drawing her body into his hard chest, cushioned by his smooth suit. She shyly circled her arms around his middle, conscious of making sure her make up didn't transfer onto the material.

"I know you're nervous," he whispered into her hair, "I'm just not a hundred per cent why... There's no need to be."

"I just...It's...I'm not good in social situations, and I..." she trailed off as he pulled back enough to look down at her face. She peered at him from under her lashes, taking in his expression. He couldn't look more attentive if he tried, she decided. "Walking into a room full of strangers, just...makes me feel like a floundering fish because I have no idea how to make small talk... It's like I'm going to have a panic attack, especially when the people are people I want to like me..."

Troy huffed a sympathetic sigh. He didn't want to appear like he was pitying her, as her knew many people with any kind of disposition didn't like that, yet he wasn't sure what else he could do. He'd never had trouble with people, or meeting new people, as he generally saw himself as laid back and easy-going. However, as he looked on at the gentle, innocent girl beside him who was struggling to even think of walking into a room full of strangers, Troy was beginning to realise how lucky he was to be this way.

"Of course they will like you, Brie," he confirmed easily. She scoffed, and he watched her scrunch up her nose in disbelief. She evidently didn't believe him. "Listen to me," he husked in his usual soft, half-whisper voice he, at first, hadn't even realised he only really used when around her. He crouched slightly to be at her eye level. "_Of course they will like you," _he emphasized. "They will, just as I do. There's no need to be scared. I'll stay with you."

Gabriella smiled wanly, though she was beginning to feel better. "You don't have to––" she began automatically.

"Brie, I _want_ to. What else am I gonna' do?"

"Troy!" came the shrill voice of one of his female relatives, making him cringe. He quickly swooped down and nuzzled his nose to her forehead, kissing the nearest skin he could reach a second before waves of relatives could descend.

"Troy!" came the voice again, nearing them, officially breaking up their moment. "Does your mother know you're here yet? Come on, you're going to be late!"

༻༺

"Nice camera," Gabriella said quietly as she eyed the camera in Troy's left hand. Gabriella with her rather extensive camera knowledge knew with a single glance that it was expensive, a Nikon D3200 with a 'NIKKOR' 18-300mm lens. All in all, it was very expensive. It was something Gabriella could only dream of being able to afford. He was basically holding over a grand's worth of camera in one hand.

The two were seated in the fourth row at the wedding venue, waiting for the ceremony to get underway. Troy heard her comment, breaking his smiling gazes at relatives to turn to her in his seat.

"Nikon D3200, isn't it?" she asked with a slight smug smile, making a point of looking him in the eye, and not at the camera. "With a 18-300 lens?"

Troy's grin slowly stretched, impressed. "You've been eying up my camera?"

"Well, it _is_ a gorgeous camera," she teased, taking it as he passed it to her, assessing the weight of it as it sat in her hands. "Shame it's a Nikon, though. I would never pegged you as a Nikon guy..."

Troy let out a short laugh. "Oh man, so, don't tell me - you're a Canon girl..."

The teasing made Gabriella giggle. "Well, yes, sorry, I am..."

"I've seen some of your photos on Facebook," he nibbled his lower lip for a moment. "They're really great."

Gabriella balked, trying not to read to much into his words as she thought of her photography folder on Facebook. "You have?"

Troy was suddenly slightly bashful, but chose not to hide his face. "I have. You don't check your Facebook much, eh?"

"Not since the," she paused, lowering her voice, "drunk photos."

"Oh, I see," he acknowledged. "Yes well, I suppose that's a sensible approach..."

"A lonely one too," Gabriella added lowly.

Troy didn't answer, as he was not sure how to.

"I would like to see some of _your_ photos..." Gabriella approached carefully.

"They're kinda boring...I'm not good at taking photos of anything and everything like you," he complimented with a smile. "My niche is people, portraits, y'know."

"That's a very particular skill," Gabriella said, thoughtfully, "And I'm sure you're great at it."

"I'm not so sure..." Troy mumbled modestly.

"So... Am I staying at yours tonight? It's just...I brought a bag...I just wasn't sure."

"I was hoping you'd stay," he spoke softly. "If you'd like."

Gabriella swallowed. "As nervous as it makes me, yes, I think I would."

Troy chuckled. "What would your mom say?"

"I don't think she'll mind. She trusts me, considering I've never been untrustworthy with a guy...Well, because there have never _been _any guys...but you know..." She silenced herself, realising she was rambling. "I'll text her, to make sure."

"Okay, no sweat," he smiled, kissing her head lightly, both of them silencing as they heard the music begin, indicating the arrival of the bride.

Gabriella smiled to herself as she turned to the back of the room along with all others in the room, taking in the sight of a slim, elegant female figure linking arms with her father, making her way up the aisle in the large, light room which was decorated with hundreds of white roses.

It wasn't until the bride, Alicia Bolton, Gabriella remembered Troy informing her, came closer that Gabriella saw her for the first time and how beautiful she looked. She was the exact embodiment of what Gabriella pictured when she thought of a 'glowing bride.' She had dark brown curls, done perfectly with a curling iron, tied into a messy bun and sparkling hair slides. She was barely any make up, soft eye shadow, light pink lips and a dazzlingly happy and love-struck smile. Her dress was a soft tone of ivory, with a soft silk plunging neckline and straps that fell over her shoulders and crossed over her bare back. The dress was simple, elegant, just as Alicia was. Gabriella couldn't help but feel envy at her beauty, and her effect on all the males in the room. Mostly though, Gabriella envied the look in the groom, Jerry's, eyes, of pure love and adoration when he set eyes on his bride. It was something Gabriella could only dream of.

"She's beautiful," Gabriella whispered in Troy's direction as the bride and groom took their places at the front.

Troy's lips tugged upward, almost as though he was touched personally by her words. "Yes, she is..."

In a subtle move, which was still alien to her, Gabriella realised Troy had slung his arm over the back of her chair, his fingertips skimming the top of her arm, making burning, tinging patterns. His fingers were slightly callous, which she guessed was due to his near-continuous playing of basketball. She smiled shyly up at him, acknowledging his move and he smiled equally shyly back as they both settled back to watch the romantic ceremony unfold.

It was what Gabriella would have called, 'the perfect wedding.' The service was short, but meaningful. The vows were personalised, leaving not a dry eye in the house. Once the ceremony was over, the bride and groom left the room first with moist eyes and cheeks and wide smiles.

"Aw," Gabriella cooed at she dabbed the corners of her eyes.

Troy chuckled, pulling her into his side, smiling, endeared by her tears. "Aw, look who's crying," he cooed.

"Don't," she warned, though her protest was weak.

Troy himself felt his emotions being tugged into action, though he was trying to hide it, at the sight of one of his favourite cousins looking so happy and in love.

"Aw, Elle," Troy cooed again in her ear as they stood to move to the reception area.

"Don't laugh at me," she sulked, crossed her arms, pouting for a moment before laughing along with him.

"Troy!" came an unknown voice as the two made their way into the beautiful, colourful hotel gardens.

"Auntie Alice!" Troy grinned, letting the woman take him into a tight embrace. She was tall and cuddly, with kind eyes, that were the same famous Bolton blue.

"And, who, Troy sweetie, is this?" she asked in a gentle, motherly voice.

"Gab, this is my Aunt Alice. Auntie Alice, this is Gabriella, my girlfriend."

Gabriella felt her stomach drop, the very idea of being Troy Bolton's girlfriend and being introduced to his entire family as exactly that making her both feel ill with anxiety but also sick with giddiness. It was hard to tell which was which. She gripped her wrist with her hand, doing her usual anxiety tell: digging her nails into her own wrist and hand to try and distract herself from the awkwardness she knew she was already oozing into the air around them.

"You have a girlfriend? _Oh_, how lovely. It's lovely to meet you. I hope Troy here is looking after you."

Gabriella swallowed, willing her smile to appear genuine. "He is, very much. It's nice to meet you."

After exchanging kisses on the cheeks and a small hug, Alice Bolton, Coach Bolton's sister, pulled back with a big smile. Gabriella instantly moved closer to the familiarity of Troy's body. They didn't touch, but they didn't need to. Their gaze meeting was enough.

"Thomas!" called Alice over her shoulder. A gentle looking man with greying short hair appeared. "Thomas, come here and meet Gabriella."

"Hey Uncle Tom!" Troy greeted warmly, hugging him briefly.

"Troy," he smiled. "Who is this lovely young lady?"

Gabriella felt her nails dig further into her own skin, keeping her alert and aware of her surroundings.

Troy gently placed an arm around her, a strong yet subtle move. "This is Gabriella," he said in a strong voice. Gabriella still wondered how on earth he did that, always sounding so sure of himself.

"His _girlfriend," _Alice supplied with a smile. Gabriella felt herself inwardly cringe.

"Is that so?"

Troy's fingers held her hipbone tighter. "Yes sir it is," Troy answered smiling, and Gabriella didn't miss the way his chest seemed to be puffed out as though he were an alpha male.

"Well, we'll leave you kids to yourselves," Thomas quickly decided before his wife could ask more questions. "See you later."

Troy smiled as they left, turning to see Gabriella's tight, awkward smile. He laughed, taking her into his chest by curling both his arms around the expanse of her waist.

"Shall we go and find our table?" Troy asked lowly, conscious just as he could tell Gabriella was that almost every guest was eyeing their physical contact, wondering who their relative Troy was holding.

"Yes, please," she sighed with relief.

༻༺

Gabriella sat with a smile on her face as they ate the first two courses of their meals. Though she appeared totally at ease and friendly, Troy had noted how her smile was slightly too tight and she was sat up slightly too straight. Once Troy had finished his main meal, he looked at the, very silent, brunette beside him. Once she had eaten her meal politely, she began staring down at her phone, replying to a text message from Taylor.

It was obvious she was trying to avoid having to make eye contact with people she didn't know. His eyes drifted over her frame, and he could tell she was tense as a statue, and he just wished he could do something.

So, he pulled out his phone and decided to text her.

A few moments later, he watched a soft smile spread across her face as she read his message.

_Gabriella. Please, please, please smile. I miss your pretty eyes. xxxxxx_

"It's you that has the pretty eyes, Bolton."

Troy squinted. "Excuse me?" He chuckled. "Can't you ever just take a compliment?"

"No, not when it's a lie, I can't."

Troy just shook his head. "You have _very_ pretty eyes, Gabi," he stated in a low voice, picking up his drink. "They're chocolate maroon, and they suit you. They're trusting and kind," his fingers brushed her jawline. "They're perfect."

They were now almost whispering, and Gabriella was conscious of the other guests and Bolton relatives looking at them from around the large circular table, including Lucille and Jack.

Gabriella smiled softly, taking in the sight of his kind sky-blue irises. "They're really not, but thank you."

Troy was about to speak when a loud noise cut him off. The sound of Chad Danforth's voice.

"Hoops!" he greeted as he neared the two of them, his parents speaking with Mr and Mrs Bolton warmly.

"Hey man," Troy said, more muted than he usually would, aware of Gabriella's timid form beside him.

"Hi Gabriella," Chad greeted, surprising Gabriella herself more than anyone. He spoke with slight reluctance, but at least he was trying, she reasoned.

"Hi, Chad."

Troy, feeling awkwardness for the first time this evening, cleared his throat. "You having fun, man?"

"Yeah, and I wish I could stay but my mum needs to get home, so..."

"Alright. I'll see you Monday, okay?"

"Okay, dude. Have fun you two," he joked, his face mischievous. "Bye, Gabriella," he added after a moment, and Gabriella did not miss the look he flashed at Troy.

"Bye," Gabriella called after him, trying to sound as genuine as possible. She cringed a second later.

"You didn't tell me he was here. Why didn't you hang out with him?" Gabriella asked, confused.

"Because I'm hangin' with you," he smiled with an arm draped over the back of her chair.

"He doesn't like me," she murmured.

"He doesn't know you," Troy conceded lowly, looking into the distance with a thoughtful gaze. "That's all. Besides, he doesn't need to. As long as he's civil about and towards you, I don't mind."

"Is there anyone else here I should know about?"

Troy suddenly smirked. "Emily."

"_Emily's_ here?" Gabriella said eagerly, looking around the huge, beautifully decorated reception room through the hundreds of people.

"She'll find you soon enough," Troy smiled, "when the music begins, I should think. Just look for the brunette dancing like a banshee."

Gabriella laughed once. "A banshee? Really?"

Suddenly the bride, Alicia, appeared as she finally made her way round all the tables before the first dance. She was a vision in the darkened room in her ivory dress, and Gabriella couldn't help but sit back in her seat and simply admire.

"Troy!" she exclaimed after a moment. Her Bolton blue eyes clasped on the young Bolton beside Gabriella as she neared him, maneuvering carefully in her dress.

"Cia!" came the nickname from Troy's lips happily as he got to his feet and gripped his cousin tightly in a bear hug. They swayed slightly on their feet, their voices muffled as their faces were in the crooks of each others necks as they spoke.

"Alicia, this is the _gorgeous _Gabriella," Troy introduced, a fresh and lively carefree sparkle in his eye, "my girlfriend. Gabriella, this is my favourite cousin, and, may I say, a very beautiful bride, Alicia."

Alicia swatted him lighted on the shoulder with his overuse of compliments. "It's lovely to meet you, Gabriella. I hope this here charmer cousin of mine is treating you right. You tell me if he isn't and I'll straighten him out for you."

Troy's jaw dropped as he pretended to be offended. Gabriella laughed, accepting the bride's hug openly, instantly taking a liking to her. "Thanks, but he's doing okay so far. I'll let you know though, okay?"

Troy huffed again. "Elle! You're meant to be on my side!"

Gabriella giggled, pulling back to punch his shoulder affectionately. "Or so you think."

"Okay, now I'm offended," Troy joked, taking his seat again.

"I have to go say hello to everyone, but it was lovely meeting you, Gabriella. Hopefully I'll see you on the dance floor later?"

"Of course! It was nice to meet you too! Congratulations."

When Gabriella sat back on her chair, she turned to find the most quizzical and happy expression on Troy's face.

She leant her face closer to his to mutter lowly in the loud room. "Are you high?"

Troy's mellow expression didn't falter. "Somethin' like that."

"Can I get some of that?" she asked of his happy and satisfied with life mood.

"How about some dessert?" he asked, his dark eyebrows quirking.

Gabriella groaned appreciatively, before placing both hands either side of his face, enjoying the closeness. "_Yes, please. _You read my mind."

"You're getting better with this eye contact and physical contact thing, eh?" Troy murmured as she carried on smiling with her maroon chocolate eyes.

"I know, it's weird. It sometimes feels almost too easy..."

They both let that idea sink in, before Troy felt the urge to walk away from the table. His parents were still unceremoniously gazing at the two of them.

"So, dessert?"

Gabriella nodded enthusiastically, a grin spreading across her face like a child at Christmas. "Bring it, Bolton."

༻༺

One thing Troy was being to love most about this girl was that she could really _eat. _She may complain every once in a while about being 'fat,' but when she was eating dessert, she surely didn't seem to worry about her weight. He liked that.

"Hey." He walked towards a thoughtful looking Gabriella who had sat down with her dessert outside in the hotel gardens by the water. She had gone outside to call her mother to tell her she was okay, and had not returned, so he finally decided to follow after her.

Gabriella turned, and in the low light that strings of lights and torches provided, he thought yet again how pretty she looked in her long dress and lined eyes. She smiled softly at him, eating her second helping of cake and whipped cream.

"Hey," she murmured.

Troy took a seat next to her, looking out at the beautiful sight of the water. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she smiled, but didn't elaborate. He reached over and wiped whipped cream from the corner of her mouth. He smiled at her affectionately.

"You seem particularly quiet tonight, that's all. Even quieter than usual."

"It's nothing, I'm just..." She sighed and paused. "Why didn't you hang out with Chad tonight? I mean, we didn't even say hi to him..."

Troy frowned, trying to sum up an answer. "I––"

"It was because of me," Troy's eyes landed on her as her fingers played with her hair, "wasn't it?"

"No," he whispered, a deep 'V' between his brows. "No, it wasn't."

Gabriella sighed. "There's no point in denying the truth to me, Troy."

"I'm _not."_

"Yes, you are. No matter what, Troy, admit it, there's always going be a part of you that is just that little bit embarrassed to be with me."

Troy was squinting with confusion, his brain muddled as to the drastic turn of the conversation. _Was _that true? Was he embarrassed to be seen with her? Surely not! There was nothing wrong with her... Not really.

Troy opened his mouth to speak, but no words could be heard.

"But, you know what?" Gabriella added, breaking the confused quiet as she took his silence as an admission. "That's okay, because most of the time," She felt a lump begin to rise in her throat, and desperately tried to swallow it. Her voice grew tight, telling of her tearfulness. She sniffed. "Most of the time, I'd be embarrassed to, to be seen with me too."

Gabriella kept her eyes on the steel fork in her hands as she gripped it, trying to find a distraction from the tears forming in her eyes.

"Elle," Troy began in his half-whisper voice he used so much around her, and that was enough. The tears in her eyes became too many as they overflowed, rolling heavily down her cheeks and nose, hitting the fabric of her dress below.

Troy felt guilt and pity fill every corner of his being as tears, hot, round and heavy, fell straight from her eyes, down her nose and into her lap. He instantly wished he had tried to make her feel better, even if he wasn't sure whether she was indeed right or not.

"Oh, Elle, no. Don't cry," he sighed in a whisper as he instinctively scooted closer to her, pulling her against his chest. She instantly tried to pull away from him, but, of course, he was stronger.

"My make up," she sniffed, leaning slightly backward worriedly. "It'll get on your shirt."

"Doesn't matter," he mumbled into the top of her hair.

He felt her body relax into him and soft whimpering sobs could be heard, the sound ripping through his body painfully. He gripped her tighter and felt the urge to kiss her hair, and so did just that. They rocked gently for what felt like forever.

"I'm sorry," she whispered after a minute or two, leaning back again to wipe her face, running a finger under her eyes to erase any smudged make up. She sniffed noisily, smiling weakly.

"It's okay," he whispered, almost inaudibly. He pushed back a tendril of hair with the pad of his thumb.

"It's just serious PMS," she muttered. "Sorry."

Troy chuckled, pulling her under his arm and into her side, her narrow knees against his own. "It's okay. This may sound strange, but it's kind of...a relief to see you cry, just because you're normally so externally..._controlled. _It's good to let it out, you know."

"I know I am, and I know it is... It feels good to let it out. I just wish I could let myself do it more often." She looked down, moving with the cake crumbs left on her plate around to distract herself.

"You can with me, Brie," Troy smiled, squeezing her arm. "I don't mind––honest."

"Troy, I don't want you to think I'm weird."

"Everyone's weird in some way, Gabi," he smiled, tipping his head to the side. "Even me and you."

She giggled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand again, sniffing before turning to face him fully. "No, I mean... It's just, letting all the ugly stuff I keep inside out is never going to be pretty...and I'm not sure I want you to see that."

"But Elle, you forget that that works both ways. You can listen to me, and I will listen to you in return. That's how _real _friendship works, right? That's how your friendship with Taylor works, isn't it? You talk about your problems, she listens, then when she needs you, you're there for her, right? This is just the same."

"Is that us? Is that what we are? Friends?"

Troy eyed her, noting her self conscious tone. He smiled at her lopsidedly, trying to encourage her to do the same. "Of course we are," he whispered in a chuckle, cupping her cheek with his hand as he pressed his forehead to hers. "And I'm hoping you consider us to be more than that, as much as I do."

"I do," she whispered, looking straight into his eyes, even though she felt vulnerable doing so.

Troy's lips touched hers as his eyes closed and his hands curled into her hair. Gabriella's actions were becoming more confident with every move, every kiss they shared, and Troy could definitely notice a change in her from the girl he had once seem fall over in Ms Darbus' class. None more than the change he could feel happening in their current embrace though, as he felt her hands holding him with command and presence. It seemed that letting out some of her emotions boded well for her.

"Tell me what's been going on, Gabriella," Troy whispered against her cheek. "Those tears can't be for nothing."

"They are," she assured again, but didn't meet his gaze.

"Would you be saying that if Taylor asked you?" he asked lowly. After a moment, and with a slight smug smile, he watched her shake her head. He lifted his hands and grasped her own gently, turning over her palms to trace his fingers over them. He eyed her expression. "Tell me."

There was a pause, and then she sighed, seemingly giving in. She curled into his shoulder, and he smiled at how she seemed to fit into the side of body perfectly.

"Well, first of all, I just want to say that I didn't think it would bother me, this whole dating you and the whole school finding out thing... I thought I was okay, you know, after the party and all that? It was cool and we had fun like we were just..._us, _you know? and I was _happy _for once, and I thought, 'I can do this.' I _wanted _to be able to do this, to get on with it like any other girl probably could. You're just so calm and easy-going and I just..." She swallowed the tense lump that was growing in her throat again. "But then, school came, and, well, the first day you didn't know how to act with me in front of your friends, which didn't so much as offend me as, well, scare me...because, well, if _you_ don't know how to do this, then how the fuck am I going to know, you see?"

She sniffed as he nodded gently, holding his hand in both her own. She took in the scent of Old Spice at his collarbone and tried to smile.

"Go on," he murmured.

"Well...then you apologised and it all felt so good again, because I couldn't bare to be mad at you, and you did the right thing, and so _yet again _I let myself get my_ fucking_ hopes up, thinking, 'Yeah, school may not be so bad after all. I can do this. I can face breaking the status quo.'" She ran a thumb over his knuckle, not seeing anything. "But then I saw Jessica come up to you and talk to you about basketball in the cafeteria, and I couldn't stop visualising how great you'd be together, and _right _you would be, and that only reminded me of how _wrong _I am with you, compared to her." She looked up at Troy, only to see his bemused frown as his lips were poised to interrupt, obviously not agreeing. "It feels like I'm cheating you out of what you deserve out of life. Like I've won the worlds largest, billionaire lottery and you've just gotten a dud ticket: the shortest straw of the bunch." She took a deep drag of air as had almost forgotten to breath.

"Gab––"

She broke him off. "Before you speak...I just... Know this: I basically just felt totally shit after realising how beautifully you two would match. I felt totally inadequate and wrong. So, I tried to get some distance for the rest of the week, to gain perspective, but, the problem is, in wouldn't have made a difference, because, every time I'm with you it's like...a bubble. I can't seem to find the train of thought I'd usually be on if you weren't there, you know? I can't concentrate, can't think things through. Everything's the opposite of my usual way of going about things. Everything's..._impulsive_, and that's why I'm always so muddled around you... Hence the rambling I'm going on right now..."

"I get that. I feel that way too!" he smiled, but felt his tugged lips drop again when she didn't smile back. "Elle, I... How––how did you get like this? I don't think I've met anyone so level yet broken at the same time..."

"I guess I've always been like this," she shrugged limply.

"But, why? It's such a shame..." His frown was just the same. "I wish I could understand."

She exhaled as though the world were balanced on her slim shoulders. "Well, I guess...In short, I never feel worthy of anyone, or anything, ever, and that feeling has only accentuated now that I'm with you." She paused.

"Great," he rolled his eyes dryly.

She smiled. "Aw, no, it's not like that... It's just...I guess it all started because I have this _gorgeous _cousin, you see, Amber––oh, you know who she is... She's the West High cheerleader? Well, she's always been...what she is now: pretty, athletic, confident, bubbly, impulsive, brazen...thin and stylish..."

Troy began to tense at the description of the West High cheerleader he did indeed know. When he had last known her though, he had had no idea she and Gabriella Montez were related, as they were not much alike at all. He was suddenly nervous, but focused on listening.

"I've always been in her shadow in my family, for reasons I won't go into now, and as I result I've never felt like...I've never...I've never _expected _to be the one people remember; the one the have the hots for; the one they compliment when she's walked away... I'm the opposite, as you can probably guess. She's never changed, and neither have I, so now I find myself, as I always have done, with the lowest self esteem of anyone you would ever meet, though I try to hide in order to defend myself..."

She swallowed, taking a peek up at him, noting his thoughtful expression.

"It just used to tear me up, you know? I'd see her having so much fun, with so many friends, so many boyfriends, so thin and athletic, all starting at such a young age, and there was me, sat in the corner of the living room, with a book as my only companion on a Saturday night for my _entire _life––until I met you. She always also had a serious mean streak...and she'd look at me some days, and though it started when we were only young, her twelve, me thirteen, I _knew _that as we got older, somedays she looked at me, and I could _see_ pity in her eyes. She pitied me because she saw what I saw, what everyone else saw; how pathetic and anti-social and frigid I was...I _am_...And so she began to pick up on it, as we got older, when we eventually grew apart for various reasons, she would make me feel like shit, as though we had never once been like sisters at all... I was just her poor, frigid, _disabled_ cousin, and that was that..."

Gabriella's eyes were fixed off in the distance, obviously reliving the past she had described, and Troy felt his upper lip begin to perspire by the tone in which she spoke of Amber. It did not sound as though they were on good terms now, Troy realised, which may not bode well for him.

He still felt awful for her, so tried to be comforting and hide his unease. "That must have been really shitty," he heard himself saying, and though he hadn't thought his words through at all, he meant them. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," she whispered, trying to sound indifferent, though he could hear the emotion in her voice. "Yeah, it was shitty. Completely... Yes, it still does."

"So you..." he trailed, trying to calm his unease and find his words. "You were close with her before, but not now?"

"Yeah, she, er, lived with us for quite a long time because of personal happenings and we were like sisters, but then...then she got boobs, Facebook, make up and boyfriends and things just..._changed. _We don't talk anymore, she would be embarrassed to be seen with me and I would just be deathly bitter and jealous of her, so no... Not unless my mom forces us to, which she does do. It was always Amber's decision, though, not mine."

"Her name's, what, Amber Montez?" he asked, hoping maybe, just maybe, there were two West High cheerleaders called Amber.

Gabriella frowned slightly. "No, she's from my mom's side of the family. She's Amber Monroe."

Troy felt dread fill his stomach, realisation hitting him. He remembered now. He had definitely, once upon a time, known an Amber Monroe. Or 'Marilyn' as she was nicknamed, because, as many guys have stated, she was one minx and a half.

"Ambi Bambi used to be her nickname because of her eyes," Gabriella explained, unaware of Troy's inner realisation, "But apparently for the last year or so she's being called Marilyn because of her..._ways..._and because of her last name, obviously." Gabriella smirked. "Amber 'Marilyn' Monroe, alluring and tempting but also totally fucked up. Hm, how fitting."

Troy was trying to keep himself in check, but knew he was going to have to call Chad very soon, needing confirmation to what he had remembered.

One thing he knew for sure though, was that, if his connection to Amber _was _indeed correct, then Gabriella would not appreciate not being told. He suddenly couldn't open his mouth fast enough.

"Gab, there's something you should know." This got her attention. "I think I––"

"There you are, you two!" came the sound of Emily's voice from a distance, causing both relief and irritation on Troy's part.

Gabriella turned, sighing slightly at the interruption, before turning back to him. She estimated that she probably had about ten seconds before their private space was invaded.

"Thank you for listening to me," she whispered with a soft smile.

"You are so welcome," he murmured, swallowing the admission that had been so close to leaving his lips. _There was a party, and I think I fooled around with your cousin. _

Gabriella grasped his buttoned shirt, leaning up on her knees and kissing him softly. She went to pull away, but he leant up onto his knees to meet her, and curled his arms completely around her waist, up her back, and into her hair. He wanted her close enough to smell, close enough to feel. He craved her like nothing else.

"Thank you, thank you," she whispered against his lips. "You're _so_ great."

"No, _you're _so great," he whispered back, dropping his head to her collarbone, inhaling her perfume as they hugged.

"I knew it, I knew it, I _knew _it!" Emily roared from right behind them, causing them to break apart quickly. "Well, aren't you guys just so cute?"

"Can it, Andy," Troy shot back playfully, smooth Gabriella's hair affectionately as they parted.

"Whatever, dickhead. Anyway, while you two have been being all gooey out here, you've missed the bride and groom's first dance. You have _not, _however, missed the disco. Now come on, I want to dance with my girl," she said, pulling on Gabriella's arm.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming," Gabriella willed for just a moment longer alone with Troy. "Come on, _lover-boy_," Emily called, her blue blue dress flowing. "You too!"

"Okay! We'll be right there!" Troy called, holding Gabriella back on the path leading back to the doors.

"Elle..." he murmured, trying to grasp the courage to tell her about his past with Amber. But, just like that, looking at her relieved, maroon brown eyes, he couldn't do it. "Why _are_ you so jealous? I mean, don't you see that you have no reason to wish you were someone else?"

"It's not that I'm jealous of the things I have, so much... Mostly, it's just...that I'm jealous of people who are able to be themselves and be open with other people."

"But you _are _open. You're not as closed off as you think you are, otherwise you wouldn't be talking to me like this right now, would you?"

"No, but... I just build up so many walls and barriers and I'm always holding back. I just wish I could be more like those who aren't."

Troy laid an arm over her shoulders as they wondered down the path again. "You don't have to hold back anymore, Gabriella. I'm here for you––I mean it."

Gabriella smiled, nuzzling into his side. "And I, you."

"_Oi! TROYELLA! Get your asses in here!" _came the demand from Emily at the door. The couple couldn't help but laugh at their friend's audacity. A song began to pump through the speakers that Gabriella recognised to be a clubbing track from the British music scene. 'Changed The Way You Kissed Me' by Example. She grinned at Troy.

"I _love _this! Come on!"

And just like that, Gabriella, the disabled girl, was running down the path in her own unique way, legs from the kneecaps down turned inwards, dragging Troy Bolton behind her. And in heels, no less.

It seemed a world away from the girl she had once been.

༻༺

They danced _a lot, _and by the time they arrived back at Troy's house, Gabriella couldn't really feel her feet. They had snuck alcohol into their Coca Cola's, and so were most definitely tipsy, but no where near as drunk as Troy's parents, meaning the two adults didn't notice. They concealed their giggles in the back of the six seater taxi, playfully fiddling with each others fingers and nuzzling faces as guests were dropped off at their homes along the route home.

On arrival at the Bolton household, Gabriella held onto her bag and heels in one hand, an arm around Troy's middle with the other. As they walked inside, he held her tighter.

"Mind the step," he warned, the kind of thing her mother would always say. "Don't fall."

She giggled. "You sound like my mother."

He chuckled, helping her through the darkened house and showing her up the stairs.

"So, erm, my mom and dad have basically passed out in their room already, which is down there, to the left," he indicated with his hand.

"So," she paused, feeling her heart begin to hammer. She couldn't quite believe she was going to stay over at Troy Bolton's house. (Her mother had been informed of this, and assured profusely that they would be sleeping in separate beds.) Suddenly she was nervous. Was she out of her mind? "Where am I staying?"

"My room's up here," he motioned up a second, smaller flight of stairs, onto a small verandah that looked down onto the first floor. There was a door, leading to a bathroom, and then up three more steps, his bedroom. She followed him into the room, and smiled. It was definitely Troy Bolton's bedroom. It was blue and beige, a window on the left that was covered by dark blue curtains. He had a basketball headboard on his double bed, and a stuff soft basketball on the table. His desk had a few books piled on it, and photos on a notice board. There was a large space in the middle of the room, with a basketball rug on the dark blue carpet, plus a small living area with a couch, that had already been made into a bed, a TV, and, of course, X Box. The room was mellow, vaguely tidy, spacious and cool. She liked it.

"This is me," he motioned calmly. It was past three in the morning, and Troy didn't have the energy to be nervous about Gabriella being in his bedroom, as he should.

"You have a nice room," Gabriella complimented, with a considerable amount of awkwardness, considering she wasn't sober.

"Thanks," Troy smiled, taking her bag from her. "You can take my bed, or the sofa bed, whichever you prefer. I sleep like a log either way so..."

Gabriella took a deep breath, as though she was preparing to jump out off a jet, ten thousand feet up in the air, no turning back. "Would you hold it against me if I said that I would, in fact, prefer your bed, just because it's yours?"

Her voice was low and almost sultry, yet innocent almost simultaneously, and that's how he knew she wasn't kidding. He took is lower lip in between his teeth, involuntarily rising his dark eyebrows at her statement.

"I can't say I would, no," he smiled, cautiously, leaning to kiss her cheek before placing her bag down on the bed behind her. "You can take my bed, Elle, of course. It's probably best for your back and all anyways."

Gabriella stopped her motions, exhaling quickly as her eyes landed on him. This, in turn, made Troy halt too.

"What?"

"Nothing," she assured, softly. "It's just... I can't believe you actually..._consider _me to that level that you're thinking about my back and stuff. No one except my mom has ever done that."

He looked vulnerable in that moment, Gabriella noted. As soon as she had spoken, he had frowned slightly and looked thoughtful. He was still smiling though, but only by a small margin.

"Well, I...I do," he shook his head. "As I told you: I worry about you more than Chad says should be legal, considering I've only known you not too long."

Gabriella nodded, out of replies, and stood awkwardly for a moment, observing him and the few meters distance between them. "Uh, I'm tired, so, do you mind if I use the bathroom first?"

Troy shook his head, seemingly distracted. "No, no, of course not. Go ahead."

"Thanks."

"Oh, wait, one second. Can I take your picture, before you take off that lovely dress?"

Gabriella smiled and frowned at the same time, indecisive. She sighed. "Only if you make me look good," she teased.

"That won't be necessary," he charmed, pulling out his Nikon and bringing it to his eye. Gabriella stood awkwardly, silent.

"Smile, Gabi," he supplied.

She giggled a little, so she reluctantly tipped her head to the side, smiling at the man behind the camera, rather than the black box that was pointing at her. There were a few clicks, sharp and instantaneous. After a few more photos, Gabriella began to become awkward again, so made a crazy face, flashing the peace sign. Troy laughed as she made more silly faces, before bounding over to him and taking the camera from him.

"Say cheese, Troy," she said in a sing-song voice, slinging her arm around his neck, snapping pictures as she held the camera out in front of them. He kissed her cheek as it clicked again, and made a silly face after another.

Gabriella placed the Nikon down heavily in his hands, trying to give him her mouth scathing look. "Okay Bolton, do I have your permission to use the bathroom now?"

༻༺

Gabriella lay in Troy's bed in the darkness, and Troy knew by just listening that she wasn't asleep, as her breathing was uneven and shallow, and he could hear her swigging a beer, just as he was.

"When was your first kiss?" came her voice out of no where, making him smile.

"Uh," he considered his answer. "I was young, nine I think. I barely even remember it. It was a totally innocent thing, in the playground, you know. How about you?"

"I was _so_ young, six, maybe seven? It was a silly little thing really. We were on a field trip and this boy I was friends with asked me who I liked, and for some reason, I said him. And, so, before we knew it, we were kissing with his raincoat over our heads." She giggled. "It seemed that that was the extent of my affections with boys for the rest of my life until now, though."

"Why, what happened?"

"Well, I was so excited and happy about it at the time, and I remember telling my friend––who turned out as we got older not to be such a good friend––about it, and she obviously told everyone, because then by Monday the boy came up to me, in front of all my friends, and told me he had no interest in me at all and he had made a mistake." She paused, taking in the silence in the room. "I forever regretted it, just because it was my fault. It was _because _I _told_ people about him kissing me, so he got embarrassed that everyone knew and so shunned me in from of all my friends, patronised me, made me look desperate and needy..."

"And this was your first ever kissing experience?"

"Yup. First and only––until you."

"That's rough. You were so young, _too_ young to be treated like that."

"I guess, even at that age, I kind of vowed to myself after that not to open up to anyone about anything, because it never results in anything good."

There was quiet. "Why do you think that boy was so embarrassed of you? I just don't get it."

"I do... It's so painfully obvious to everyone but you, Troy, and I have no idea why."

"What's obvious?"

Gabriella sighed, pulling back the covers and climbing out of bed quietly. She was glad it was dark, considering she was only wearing his band t-shirt he had given her, and a pair of short shorts.

She walked as straight and level as possible towards the sofa-bed, concentrating on placing her heels into the carpet first, before her toes, the way everyone else usually walked, but the opposite of Gabriella's own gait. _Flat feet, Gabriella, flat feet! _as her always mother used to remind her. _Heels first, then toe. _

"It's the_ way I walk,_ Troy. That's why he was embarrassed to have been known to kiss me. That's why everyone at school now is so bemused by your apparent attraction to me. It's why people on the street stare a little too long, and why your relatives all took extra inquisitive interest in me. It's all relative."

Troy had noticed her grey silhouette in the semi-darkness of the dawn outside the window, and realised she was only stood a few metres away. She sounded so sad, and he couldn't help but ache for her.

"Come here, Elle," he whispered.

"We're meant to stay in separate beds," she worried in a whisper, though her real concern was the fact was barely clothed and feeling very self-conscious of her body. Still though, she advanced towards him.

"Fuck separate beds," he murmured, kicking off the rest of his covers to retrieve her. He stood, taking both her hands, that he could only just make out in the darkness, and sat down on the sofa-bed, pulling her onto his lap.

Gabriella smiled against the skin of his shoulder, suddenly realising he was only wearing boxer shorts.

Gabriella tried to curl her legs into his lap, but found that her inflexibility didn't do her any favours. Instead, she found herself pushing against his shoulders, until he laid down on the bed. She sat to his side, using her phone to aid her eyes.

"I'm damaged, Troy. The way I walk is... I know it's ugly, and I'm sorry about that, but what can I do?"

"Don't apologise," he whispered back fiercely, looking up at her half-lit face. "I never asked you to... Never apologise for being who you are, Gabriella. _Ever_."

"But my walk isn't _who I am."_

"Well, right now, with the way you're thinking, it may as well be," he whispered exasperated, sitting up so they were nose to nose. "Gabriella," he held her face in both his hands, gaining her full attention. "Maybe your problem isn't insecurity or shyness... Maybe it's all just because you're trying so hard to fit in...when you were born to stand out."

He closed his eyes at the memory of her crying under the light of the torches earlier on. He frowned, torn.

"Thank you," came her whisper after a moment, before she climbed over him, straddling his hips.

"No one's ever said anything like that to me before... Especially not as believable as that."

Leaning down, her lips touched his softly. Wanting to be body to body.

"It's believable because it's the truth, baby." He sighed, into the kiss, suddenly grinning. "And, there's no need to thank me, Gabi. No need to thank me, ever."

She buried her head into the crook of his neck, laying over him, secretly wishing they could be skin to skin.

"Is this," he paused, tugging at her t-shirt gently, "is this my t-shirt?"

Gabriella grinned, leaning up enough to see his face. "You said I could have it."

"Oh, but wearing it to bed, Miss Montez..." he groaned into the skin of her shoulder. "You're killing me."

"What about you and this no-shirt business?" she asked, feigning outrage. "You're killing me!" She sat up, carefully not to sit too far back on him, or put too much weight onto him.

His eyes rolled. "I never sleep with a shirt on."

"Well, _whoopy. _That's just great."

He chuckled at her sarcasm, and hushed to quieten them down again. Realising she was sat on him, in not much but _his _t-shirt, did things to him he couldn't spend much time dwelling about. He needed a change in discussion.

"So, can I hear you sing now?" he muttered in a murmur.

"I don't have my guitar," she muttered, a moment after her eyes had searched the room in a panic for an excuse.

He grinned, quickly rolling to the side, sliding her off him, standing and retrieving his own barely used guitar from behind the door.

"Come on, Gabi," he smiled as he held it out to her. "You know you want to."

Gabriella clenched her hands, sighing and pulling her hair swiftly into a bun: the usual preparation for guitar playing on her part. "Fine."

"Yes!" Troy quietly celebrated before racing over to her, taking his seat next to her on his sofa bed. He watched as she positioned herself carefully so she could balance and stay fully upright: up against the head of the sofa.

"It's probably not in tune," she murmured, forever the pessimist. She strummed quietly, and wrinkled her nose cutely at the sound, obviously not approving of the pitch. "Told you," she sneered playfully, sticking out her tongue at him. Then, he watched in surprise as she then began to tune it by ear, one string at a time, and, low and behold, within four minutes, it _did _sound so much better.

She strummed once, then twice, and he smiled, it sounded nice. Her strumming became more rhythmic, and he felt himself become a little lost.

She began in a soft, level voice, humming. She made an eye-contact with him, grinning as he grinned, suddenly not feeling so on edge."Okay, Troy," she giggled in a funny voice. "This is for you..._"_

Troy bowed his head, filling his lungs, anticipating.

Gabriella caught his eye, smiling, knowing the lyrics of the song she was playing would apply to both of them, and she knew he'd understand. "_#__Safety pins holding up the things, that make you mine#" _he grinned at the first line, identifying with the lyrics, due to the fact their relationship was so strong, yet so fragile at the same time. _"#About your hair#" _she grinned, leaning over in the pause between the chords to ruffle his disheveled bangs, _"#you needn't care. You look beautiful all the time#..."_

Troy grinned wide, placing palms on her knees, dropping his head to the side as he began to hum along, tapping his hands in rhythm.

_"#Shine, shine, Shine On... Yes... Won't you...shine, shine, Shine On#"_

Troy swayed slightly, deciding to take in a breath, joining in the tune. _"#Your magazines, tear people at the seams, but you still read#" _he smiled, lifting a hand to run his fingertips along her cheek lightly as he sang. He tried to silently communicate with her with his eyes on hers that the lyrics were true; that she didn't need to try to change for anyone, no matter what others would say. That she was much more perfect than she realised. _"#I must admit, I don't believe in it#" _he sang softly, placing a hand on his chest, winking as she giggled at his intense music-man expression. He looked directly at her, knowing the next line would really hit home as to the conversations they had been having that night, _"#But I can see how you get sucked in...#" _

The two of them then went on to repeat the chorus in quiet, even harmonising, singing voices. As Gabriella reached the end of the song, she played the last few chords slower for dramatic effect

Troy grinned as she finished, leaning over instantly to take her face in his hands in the early morning light.

"You taught yourself," he whispered, though it sounded more like a statement than a question. With a twinkling smile, he added, "You amaze me..."

His lips touched hers once, before she giggled at the guitar getting in the way.

Troy took the instrument and set it aside, pulling her to him, tight against his chest.

"You're the amazing one," she giggled against him, only to be sobered by his slow, searing kiss. As she melted against him, her lips follow the movements of his, her hands skimmed over his pectoral muscles, her palms accidentally skimming his nipples. A sharp intake of breath could be heard from the two of them, and Gabriella felt her heart leap up her throat and into her mouth. Her fingers skimmed his stomach, feeling the thin skin and iron muscles that lay beneath. She loved feeling the uneven, imperfect skin that could be found on his back, because that meant he wasn't completely perfect, which was something of a comfort. Her hands wondered, something she had day-dreamed of doing for too long, as she felt his hot, moist lips move away from her own and down the right side of her face, latching over the pulse point on her neck. Gabriella didn't recognise the next noise that left her mouth. It sounded foreign.

"Shhh," he hushed her, the smile on his face wicked as he carried in his assault.

"Troy, god, Troy, no," she tried to plea with him. "No hickeys!"

Troy grinned wickedly, detaching his lips long enough to speak. "Do you not wish for me to give you a hickey, Miss Montez?"

She just sighed, knowing that deep down she'd like nothing more. "Not where my mom can see them."

Troy grinned in triumph.

She felt the shy, awkward, viraginous begin to panic and resist, but for once in her life, and it wasn't just because of the beer, she began to loosen up.

_No regrets, Gabriella, _she told herself. _No regrets._

It was still dark enough not to be able to see details other than with the aid of her phone, so Gabriella quickly turned locked the screen, cutting out the light. If this was going to happen, she'd rather he didn't see very much.

He kissed her again, pulling her into his lap. His fingers fingers caressed her arms as the moved down towards the bottom of her band shirt. Oh, no, _his _band shirt, she found herself correcting. As he tugged at it, whispering gently for permission, she automatically tensed. "Don't take it off," she breathed into his ear as his lips kissed any skin he could meet. "Just push it up," she gasped.

"You sure?" he questioned, breathlessly in a whisper. The fact they had to be quiet making the whole thing more intense.

She breathed, or at least tried to. "Don't ask questions," she muttered, taking his lower lip in between her teeth, biting it gently.

She wished then she could see his expression, as quickly his hot breathing increased even more, panting at he pushed up the band shirt she was wearing. She breathed in automatically, holding in her stomach which, though not 'fat,' wasn't exactly thin either. It was average, just like the rest of her.

She felt his hot breath against the waistband of her shorts as he began to kiss upward, further and further. She breathed a sigh of relief as soon as he had passed over the slight extra flesh of her lower stomach. His lips followed the path up her stomach to just under her breasts. He paused, his hands gripping her hips tightly as she kneeled in from of him. He listened, and was sure she was panting too.

As his fingers splayed across her back under her shirt, he expected to find a strap across her back, but was only met with bare skin. "No bra," he choked in realisation. He groaned as quietly as he could, feeling his begin to react rather drastically below his waistband at the idea of the bare skin of her chest against _his _shirt.

His groan spurred her on, and she grabbed his hands from her waist, pushing them higher. In the darkness, he pecked her lips.

"Oh _god_..." he heard her utter almost inaudibly. The atmosphere was hyped up a notch.

After leaving a moment to collect himself, Troy fingers skimmed the underside of her breasts, feeling the velvet-like skin there, pressing his lips to hers.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, bringing his forehead against hers.

"Liar," she whispered, trying to be humourous, but it came out breathless. "You can barely even see me."

"I don't need to," he whispered. "You're perfectly, imperfectly, perfect."

His hands moved higher, and Gabriella felt herself droop and relax. Soon his fingertips on the underside of her breasts were replaced by his lips, and Gabriella's head dropped, her chin against her sternum as she pulled both her hands through his hair. She felt herself drifting into a place she never ever knew existed. So _this _is what she'd been missing out on, she mused...

–––

"I should get some sleep," Gabriella muttered as Troy's head withdrew from under her, _his, _t-shirt where his lips had been roaming her chest. He grumbled, making her giggle despite herself. "Are you done marking me now, you vampire?"

Troy's eyes seemed to glint in the darkness. "You have such a lovely smile," Troy complimented. "And a lovely body," he smirked, smiling wicked. The clock on the table glowed '3:40am.' They lay together on his sofa-bed, Gabriella pulled her t-shirt firmly back in place after his assault on her cleavage. It's was starting to get light, but it wasn't quite light enough to make out the details on each others faces.

She giggled. "You liar. You can't even see my face." She gave him a look. "_Or _my _body_."

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through her where she lay, her head against his bare chest. "It's so pretty, Elle. You should smile more. We need more pretty things in this world," Troy murmured.

"You should _stop _smiling so much," she insisted, playfully. "Your smile makes women of all ages practically have aneurisms."

"Thank you," he said, laughing.

"You also have nice abs," she simpered before she could stop herself, running a finger down them.

"What was that now?" he asked, pushing his ear forward with a finger, smirking. He tensed his stomach purposely, the muscles awakening, becoming even more defined. She was suddenly aware of how his _problem _in his boxers still hadn't gone away...

Gabriella withdrew into herself automatically, the sudden consciousness of his erection making her suddenly realise how she may have overstepped the mark, considering they still barely knew each other. She was suddenly frightened.

Walking back to her bed quickly, she tired not to cringe thinking about the way she was walking in front on him. "Nothing. Uh, I should probably get some sleep."

He just stared after her as she walked to the bed.

"Don't watch me walk like that," she muttered dejectedly.

"Woah, Gabi..." he sighed.

"Just, don't," she muttered neutrally, curling up onto her side in a ball.

"Why do you do that?" he asked, trying not to sound harsh. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No!" she denied quickly, desperate for him not to feel guilty for an act that had been the result of her ridiculous gumption alone.

"Well then, what is it? One minute you're open and smily and fun and _relaxed_, and the next you're––"

"––I'm what?"

"––telling me I shouldn't look at you and closing up again, when in reality you'd be upset if I _didn't _look at you, wouldn't you? If I didn't pay attention to you, you'd be hurt, yet when I do, you do _this_...I, I just–– "

"––I know, I _know_, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay?" she suddenly interrupted, exasperated and sad, trying to stay quiet. "Troy, I'm the type of person that everyone leaves and forgets about. That's just who I am. I'm nothing special. I'm not he one to walk into a room and be seen as pretty, I'm not funny, I walk weird, I'm not stick thin, and I don't have an amazing personality. Basically, I'm easily forgettable. People find someone new and better than me, and they go. They leave, and it hurts." She closed her eyes, out of tears, and so sick of talking, but at the same time know he needed to know the truth just as much as she needed to tell it. "So, yes, okay, I'm closed off, but I can't help it, okay? I get scared, so I lock down to protect myself. I'm trying, I am, but, I'm not used to people _caring_... I'm afraid that you compare me to everyone else, to the girls you've had before, because, well...I can't compete."

There was quiet, and Gabriella felt herself begin to drift, when there was a dip in the bed. She heard him before she felt his skin against her, but she knew he was there.

"You don't need to be compared with them, Gabi," he whispered almost silently, his dark brows furrowed as he looked at her curled up form on his bed.

"I know," she whispered in a sigh, just as quietly.

There was quiet. Tranquility. Peace.

"God, my amygdala is going wild tonight..." she whispered sleepily, making Troy smile, amused.

"Your what?" he asked, totally confused, his voice muffled with sleep and alcohol.

She sighed, not bothering to elaborate. "Nothing," she muttered, as it suddenly dawned on her how much she had spoken in the space of a few hours. There was once a time when she would have never told anyone as much as she had just told Troy Bolton in one night.

"No," he whispered, curling up behind her. "No, you're just...a little hurt, and lost, and unjustly done-to by the universe. None of this is your fault...and, though it may hurt now, you'll be okay... You're strong, that's obvious...and you'll be okay. I know it."

"With you?" she yawned. "Yeah, maybe," she smiled, curling up her knees. She felt Troy Bolton's iron forearm wrap around her waist, and she was automatically conscious of the fact she wasn't wearing a bra under her shirt. Only then to realise Troy had in fact had his head up her shirt not three minutes before, so what a moot point that was.

She relaxed into the pillow, feeling like she was now, somehow, a completely different person.

She felt his strong chest against her back, his even breath on her neck, and she suddenly felt wanted, a privilege she had never experienced in her life before.

Troy placed a kiss on the back of her neck, a strong and deliberate action, causing a whiff of Old Spice to travel to her nostrils. She felt her relaxation and sudden tiredness fall deeper; her kneecaps aching with all the time she had spent on her feet that night.

"'Night, Elle, baby," came his whispered sigh.

"Goodnight, Troy," she replied, already half asleep. "_Love you," _she whispered, already too unconscious to hear his response, or if there even was one.


	20. All Too Familiar

_A/N: Hey guys - so, I know, I know, I know, it's been ages but I've been deliberating this chapter for ages because it's kinda that transition period and I need to get it right for the plot to end up where I want it ages from now so... yeah, I'm still not 100% happy with it, but I thought I'd finish it and upload it for you guys as you have been waiting, but please pleeeease review!_

_Can't actually believe that this story has now been up for 2 christmases... that's so scary. Has it really been that long? Jeez. _

_Anyway - MERRY CHRISTMAS & HAPPY HOLIDAYS! _

_PLEASE REVIEW. ILY GUYS!_

_PEACE & LOVE,  
>x x x STARSWalkBACKWARD x x x<em>

_**Disclaimer: I do not own HSM, unfortunately.**_

* * *

><p><em>"Yes, I feel a little bit nervous,<br>__Yes, I feel nervous and I cannot relax,  
><em>_How come they're out to get us?  
><em>_How come they're out when they don't know the facts?"_

_'Hurts Like Heaven__' –by Coldplay_

* * *

><p><strong>All Too Familiar<strong>

When Gabriella woke, it was light, and her eyes hurt. She groaned, realising she had forgotten to take her contacts out. _Again. _She tried to turn, but was suddenly conscious of a hot, iron forearm curled around her waist, and hot breath of her neck. She jumped, her breathing quick and panicked as her heart hammered and she felt her adrenaline spike. What was this? Where was she? Who was in her bed? She began to panic.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Troy slurred sleepily, his fingers gently massaging her waist through her t-shirt. "You're okay. _Shhhh_. It's'just me."

She instantly relaxed into the sheets on hearing _His_ sweet sleepy voice. For a moment there she had forgot where she was. An easy thing to do considering this was the last place she ever thought she'd end up: Troy Bolton's bed. How things had changed...

"What time do you reckon it is?" she mumbled, closing her sore eyes again.

"Too early to get up," he grunted, nuzzling further into her hair.

"It seems quite late," she sighed.

Troy murmured something intelligible, sighing against her neck. "Mmmm."

Gabriella pressed her face into the pillow, sighing, feeling her tired eyes yearn to close.

"Oh, _fuck," _she cursed in a whisper of her sore eyes.

"What?" he mumbled.

"I left my contacts in," she groaned in a whisper. "Ouch."

"You wear contacts?" he questioned, his eyes half closed, his voice breaking cutely with the effects of the morning.

She sighed, sitting up enough to remove disposable contact, then the other, and placing them carelessly on the side. "Yep, unfortunately, my eyesight is yet another thing wrong with me."

A weak, tired smile twitched his lips upward at the corners. "So, you wear glasses?"

She rolled her eyes and lay back down, cuddling gratefully into the warmth of the bed. "Yes, genius, as in glasses." She sighed against the pillow, closing her eyes. "They make me look even more awful."

Troy's arm pulled her against him under the covers. He scoffed. "Come here you," he murmured, his warm chest against her side. "You pretty, pretty thing," he sighed. There was quiet between the two, and Gabriella focused on his soft breathing. He suddenly chuckled deeply. "I can't wait to see those glasses."

She groaned, dreading the idea, burrowing further into the sheets. He chuckled again, letting his fingers rub patterns along the side of her ribs through her shirt.

She must have drifted back to sleep, because the next thing she knew, there was a large, rather heavy object landing on top of her, startling her awake. She heard Troy choke out a wince and groan. Whatever it was definitely landed on him too. Gabriella cracked open an eye, only to see a little boy clambering on the young man beside her.

"Trwoy! Trwoy! Wake up! Wake up!"

Troy groaned again, his hand rubbing his eyes and brow. Gabriella giggled a little at the sight of the little dirty blond boy, no older than four, clasping Troy's face with both his little, chubby hands.

"Ali?!" Troy grinned, slowly sitting up, taking the young boy in his arms. "What are you doing here, buddy?"

"Momma brought me 'cuz she wanted to see Auntie 'Cille and Uncle Jack-Jack after Lisha's weddinging, 'cuz we have to go home soon," he smiled. Gabriella audibly sighed. He was, yet again, another Bolton, and he was just as beautiful and adorable as all the others, although, slightly sickly looking.

"And me? What about me, huh? You come to see me, too?" Troy teased, feigning offense over-dramatically.

The boy burst into girlish giggles, learning forward to roughly curl his chubby little arms around his cousins neck.  
>"Trwoy?" the boy questioned. "Who is that?" He pointed at Gabriella bluntly, his arm straightened out, his little pointing index finger almost touching her face.<p>

She watched as Troy leant forward and looked into the little Bolton's eyes, their faces so close that he almost went cross-eyed. "That, Alex, is my _girlfriend_," he said in a loud whisper, his face deliberately brightening to make the little boy feel he was in on a really big secret. The little boy's eyes, Bolton blue, sparkled mischievously.  
>"<em>Really?" <em>he giggled, his fingers in his mouth.  
>Troy nodded. "But, <em>shh! <em>It's a secret, okay? Just for us."

Gabriella giggled, drawing the boy's attention to her. "What name are you called?" he asked in his sweet little voice.

"Gabriella," she smiled shyly as she felt Troy's eyes on her. "What's your name?"

"Alex," he mumbled, shy, before turning back to his cousin. "Can we play basketb-b-ball, Trwoy? Please, please, _please?"_

Troy smiled kindly. "Sure, buddy. Let me just wake up a bit and get dressed, okay? Why don't you go get the ball warmed up?"

He nodded, clambering on all fours to climb down off the bed, waddling out the room in that typical toddler walk. He turned at the door and waved, a baby version of Troy typical smile on his face. "Bye Gabi!" he called, before happily disappearing out the room.  
>As Gabriella lay her aching neck down back onto the pillow, snuggling into it. Beside her, Troy chuckled sleepily.<p>

"He likes you," came Troy's sleep-ridden slur, and she felt his body dip the mattress and he lay down again.

Gabriella just huffed pessimistically, smiling in spite of herself. "He's so cute."

Troy's mussing sounds filled her ear, making her jump at his sudden closeness. Both his strong forearms curled around her, just under her breasts, pulling her flush against his warm, bare chest.

"Mmm, what about me? I'm cute too, right?" he teased in a murmur.

"Mmm," she hummed contently, her fingers skimming his strong forearms. "Perhaps."

"Perhaps?" he challenged, and she could hear the amused smirk on his lips. A moment later, she felt him flex his arm muscles.

She turned onto her side, facing him, looking up into his face. "You're more than cute," she whispered, biting her lip shyly.

"So are you, Elle," he whispered in return, catching her eye. "Last night," he paused, pushing her hair from her eyes. "You have _no _idea how gorgeous and sexy you are. The very thought of last night..." he swallowed, his smile crooked as he suddenly became shy, "does things to me."

Gabriella sighed, trying to resist the urge to groan as she felt a tug deep within her stomach and between her legs. There really were times when she could just, for lack of a better word, _jump his bones._

"It does things to me, too," she sighed, slightly embarrassed to admit it. It felt strange to admit such things, having never done so before. She stretched the neck outward of her, _his, _band t-shirt, looking down the neck-hole, and with a slight gasp, she took in the sight underneath. "Troy!" she scolded instantly, looking up at him, trying to throw daggers at him with her eyes.

Troy was suppressing a laugh of an almost painful proportion. "Mmmm?" he questioned, squinting.

"Have you _seen _what you did?!" she exclaimed in a whisper, pulling down the neck of the shirt to reveal the first of the many hickies he had left the night before across her chest and sternum. The purple-pink bruising making her feel things she really shouldn't.

Troy smirked, biting his lip to try not to express his utter contentment at seeing the marks _he _had left on her. "Evidently _you _only just have," he spoke, feigning innocence dryly.

"How am I supposed to hide these?" she asked, her voice panicked, untouched by his playful humour.  
>He raised his eyebrows, frowning anxiously as he realised she wasn't joking, and that she was earnestly panicking. "Gabi," he muttered quickly, looking at he sheepishly, scratching his neck. "I'm sorry," he murmured earnestly, hoping to ease her anxiety.<p>

She shook her head, sighing, sitting up, feeling numb and unlike herself, "It's alright." She turned to look back down at him. "Besides, I suppose... It's not like it wasn't fun at the time," she added, cheekily.

Troy tipped back his head in laughter, before sitting up and bolding squeezing his arms around her, encasing her in an iron grip. She giggled, feeling his lips playfully on her neck. "I agree, Miss Montez," he chuckled. "I agree."

"Troy... did you mean it, what you said? Do you really think I'm sexy?" she questioned after a moment of quiet.  
>Troy smiled softly at her gentle, vulnerable enquiry. "Indefinitely," he whispered, skimming his fingers down the side of her face.<p>

There was quiet between them as Gabriella desperately tried, yet again, to believe his words, and most of all, believe that he had an honest motive, and that this wasn't some twisted bet the jocks tricked him into.  
>"Gab?" he asked, when she was silent, her eyes unfocused, her mind far away from him.<br>"You should probably get a shower," she reminded him, and after a moment of hesitation he nodded, reluctantly letting go of her.

"Right."  
>"Auntie 'Cille!" came a distant voice from the ground floor. "Why does Trwoy got a girl Gabi in his bed?"<p>

Gabriella gulped back a giggle of both humour and embarrassment as she watched Troy's retreating body stiffen.  
>"Aw, shit," he cursed, turning back to her for a second, his expression sheepish. A second later, she watched him dash for the bathroom, slamming the door just in time to have a door between himself and his mother's voice.<br>"Troy Bolton, get your butt down here!"

"I'm in the shower!" came his muffled reply, his voice filled with false ignorance towards her tone.  
>"<em>Now."<em>

Gabriella stifled a giggle, stepping off Troy's bed to search her bag for a change of clothes and her glasses. Anxiety gnawed at her, deep in her stomach, knowing she was in trouble for sleeping in Troy's bed, and, more importantly, knowing she was in even deeper trouble regarding Troy Bolton in general.  
>Because she was really beginning to like him.<p>

**༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺**

"Gabriella, Troy has some lovely photographs of you. Have you seen them?"  
>Gabriella walked shyly around the corner, out into the garden, into the sun. Her eyes first met Lucille and Coach Bolton's sister, sat at one end of a long garden table, then on Troy, sat with his laptop at the other end. She peeked shyly from under her thick glasses frames, trying desperately to ignore the suggestive looks she was receiving from both adults. It was Troy's aunt that had spoken, and a moment later, Troy turned to her, blushing slightly and scratching the back of his neck.<p>

"They're not _that _good," he chuckled. "It's the lovely subject that makes the photo, after all, not the photographer."  
>Gabriella felt her face get hot as she walked towards him carefully, taking one step then another to the table. "I beg to differ," she simpered. She looked over Troy's shoulder, faced with the photographs he had taken of her the night before. She was smiling, her make up not too messy. She looked happy.<br>"This one is my favourite," Troy smiled, looking over his shoulder at herself, their faces inches from one another. Gabriella looked at the photo of her making a funny face and laughing, then another of her just laughing, and she cringed a little.  
>"Oh, now, don't," he murmured of her distaste, quiet just so she could hear him. "You're gorgeous."<br>She closed her eyes for a moment, smiling downward in sheer disbelief. "I'm not," she struggled to say, "but thanks."  
>"Lovely glasses, by the way," Troy murmured, leaning up and kissing her cheek shyly, trying not to linger against her skin in the presence of his mother and aunt. He then turned his attention back to the computer, skipping to the next photo, which was of both of them, Gabriella making silly faces as she held the camera out in front of the two of them, Troy's lips pressed to her cheek.<p>

"I like this one," she smiled, feeling his hand on her back.  
>"Me too," he muttered with a smile. "Would you mind if I put it on Facebook?"<p>

Gabriella smiled, nodding shyly, the idea of being on Troy Bolton's Facebook a naïvely exciting one.  
>"Gabi, Gabi, Gabi," came the cooing chant of little Alex Bolton. Gabriella turned, only to laugh and coo along with the other two women when he came out the house, carrying Troy's guitar in his hands as though it weighed ten times his weight. "Can you play? Please, please, <em>pleease?"<em>

She smiled, giggling as she quickly hurried over to take the guitar from his tiny hands. "Of course. What should I play? Maybe...Wheels On The Bus?"  
>A high-pitched cheer escaped the lips of the young Bolton, as Gabriella was quickly pulled down onto the lawn to sit amongst the daisies.<p>

**༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺**

"Ali is the most adorable thing," Gabriella sighed as Troy turned another corner on route to her house. "He's so funny."

"I know," Troy chuckled. "He definitely likes you."

"You better watch it." She watched the familiar streets pass by. "You may just have some competition."

Troy's blue eyes danced, as though he was inwardly laughing at a private joke. "Gabriella, this definitely won't be the first or last time I'll have competition with you."

Gabriella frowned, scoffing silently. "Don't be stupid. No guys are ever interested in me."

"I am."  
>Gabriella tried not to pay too much attention to the hammering in her chest. "Well..." She struggled for words. "No one's more surprised about that than me, believe me," she murmured as they turned to final corner, onto her street. "Except, maybe, the basketball team... and the entire East High student body."<p>

Troy was quiet, seemingly agreeing with this statement, and as they pulled up to her drive, he spoke in soft voice. "I realised a while ago, after getting to know a..." he paused, sending her a knowing smile, "certain someone...that it's not worth worrying about things you can't or could never change."

"I have always wished I could have that attitude."  
>"You can," Troy smiled, enthused. "The difficulty is just all in your mind."<p>

Gabriella swallowed, suddenly feeling disappointment sweeping over her at the sight of her driveway. She didn't want to go yet.

There was quiet between the two of them as Troy's truck faltered outside her driveway, neither of them wanting to move. Troy suddenly turned to her.

"You wanna' go get something to eat?"

Gabriella instantly turned to him, grinning with near exultation as she leant over and bravely smacked her lips to his head, giggling. "You _fucking _heard my mind, you _genius_."

Troy was still laughing when he pulled past her drive, leaving her home behind.

**༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺**

_"Yes!" _Gabriella grinned as Troy placed her McDonalds order down in front of her in their booth, before sitting beside her. Gabriella picked up one of the trademark fries, placing it into her mouth hurriedly, her eyes closing as she groaned with the pleasure that filled her tastebuds.

Troy watched her, smirking, as he quickly tucked into his own meal in order to avoid concentrating on the noises of pleasure she was making. He smiled at her. "Enjoying yourself?"

Gabriella smiled, covering her mouth with her hand, nodding vigorously.

He couldn't keep the smile from his features as he swallowed. "You're so funny," he muttered with a lopsided smile.

Gabriella frowned a little, self-consciousness settling, on cue, in her gut. "Okay...?"

"No," he struggled. "Not like _that..." _

Gabriellagiggled, tipping her head back. "Kidding."

Troy sighed, grateful she wasn't really offended by his remark. "Don't do that," he laughed. Gabriella swallowed, taking a long gulp of her drink to fill the silence. She hated awkward silences. She watched as Troy dipped his fries into his milkshakes, and she scrunched up her face in distaste.

"Troy," she muttered, raising her eyebrows.

He instantly looked startled. "What? It's good!" He dipped another into the milkshake, before offering it to her. "Try it."

Gabriella leant towards him tentatively, biting the fry as he released it from his fingers. She chewed the sweet and salty mixture, surprised.

"You're right," she smiled, peering at his face. "That's _so_ good."  
>"Told you," he teased, pinching a fry from Gabriella's tray.<p>

Gabriella stuck out her tongue out after gaping at him. A moment later they both broke into chuckles and giggles like school children. Once they had both sobered, Gabriella took another long gulp of her drink to fill the silence. She could feel Troy's blue eyes on her, intently studying her, as she placed her cup back on the table.

"What?" she asked of his gaze.  
>"I'm just... I..." he sighed, gazing at her.<p>

She felt the urge to move closer to him, and suddenly, with an almost giddy feeling, Gabriella suddenly realised she _could _in fact move closer to him_. _She leant into him with a sigh, and she was surprised when his arm curled around her back, pulling her to his side. "I'm just...so glad I met you," he smiled, a warmth in his eyes. Gabriella felt her breath leave her with the impact of his choice of words. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. As she struggled to comprehend what she had heard, she watched him scratch the back of his neck, a faint blush staining his cheeks.

"I'm glad, too," she murmured shyly, letting her gaze catch his, eye to eye, even though it caused her heartbeat to spike painfully and made her feel completely self-conscious. His deep eyes captivated her as she wished she knew what he was thinking. "So glad," she breathed, turning a little to take some food from her tray. When she looked back at him, he was happily chomping at his own meal. He didn't miss her teasing side glance, so he sent one right back, leaning to press his lips to her face. They were warm, moist and soft as he pressed an adoring kiss to her skin.

"So very, very glad," he murmured, grinning with delight at her blush.

**༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺**

"Thank you for an amazing time," Gabriella smiled across from the passenger seat.

"No, thank _you_," Troy smiled, and as silence fell between them, he watched intently as she swallowed and collected her belongings.

Then there was quiet, as Gabriella made no attempt to leave.

"Troy?" Gabriella questioned in a soft husk of a voice,

His lips twisted into a smile, as though holding back words. "Yes, Gabriella?"

He watched has her chest rose and fell as she seemed to be debating with herself.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied quickly.  
>Troy's dark eyebrows knitted together, bemused. His eyes curious.<p>

With one more breath, Gabriella inclined towards him and pressed her lips to his with as much force as she could manage, her hands at his neck. His lips were still as first, taken by surprise, however he quickly recovered himself, while still allowing Gabriella to keep control of the moment. This was the first time she had initiated any kind of intimate contact, which both of them noticed. His strong hands cupped her wrists at his sternum, and as he dropped kisses along her cheekbone, he felt her smile.

"I'm trembling," she whispered with a shaky giggle, feeling her stomach somersaulting.

He sighed, his expression softening at her innocence. "It's the adrenaline." He dropped his lips, delicately attaching his lips to the pulse point at her throat, and Gabriella was pretty sure she had forgotten how to breathe.

"I should go," Gabriella tried to say, but it came out as a breathless sigh.

Troy grinned against her neck, before sitting up straight. "I love you in these glasses," he complimented, brushing a thumb along the frames. "They're so..." he dragged out the word until it resembled warm honey, "sexy. Urgh," he groaned, taking her face hard in his hands and kissing her heavily. Gabriella felt her body begin to overheat, and she wouldn't have been surprised if her glasses has steamed up. The temperature in the small truck cab had increased ten-fold, and Gabriella heard her own breath, heavy, mingling with his.

"Oh, Gabi," he sighed against her mouth. "God damn it, you drive me crazy."

A wordless breath left her lips as his continued to press against hers, his hands in her hair. She groaned. "I wish you could give me more hickies," she breathed in confession, and as he groaned in response, she felt spurred on. "But I think I have enough."

Troy chuckled once in a whisper, pulling his face away only a centimeter. "For now," he husked, wriggling his dark eyebrows, letting his teeth graze her lower lip. A sound of arousal and surprise left her lips as the silence in the cab was interrupted by only the sound of their breaths and lips moving together. The weight of his promise hung in the air, as erotic images began to fill her mind of the two of them together, being more intimate than she could have ever dreamed possible. Skin to skin, mouth to mouth, body to body...  
>She suddenly felt the urge to taste him, and so dropped her head to his neck and attach her mouth to behind his ear before he could react. She hard, nipped and sucked hard, repeating the actions she remember him using on her chest with his mouth. He heard him groan and felt his fingers in hair, gently pulling her away after a long moment.<p>

"What have I done to you?" he asked rhetorically with amusement. "I'm an awfully bad influence on you."

Gabriella raised her eyebrows at him, rolling her eyes with a scoff. "You wish you were. How do you know I'm not secretly a horny bastard all the time?"

Troy cracked up laughter, smoothing her hair. "Oh, _wow_ Montez, such a romantic."  
>Sensing the heat of the moment subsiding, she smiled at him. "I better go before my mom notices your truck is here and I haven't got out of it yet," she giggled, pulling her hair from her face.<br>Troy pursed his lips for a moment, pulling a tendril of hair she had missed from her eyes. "I wish you didn't have to... I've loved these last few weekend," he smiled as she opened her door. "Can we please have another like this?"

Gabriella giggled, practically leaping from the cab, circling it and leaning through his own drivers-side window.

"Yes," she breathed, almost giddy. "As many as you'd like."

"I'll text you," he winked, causing her to kiss him again. He held her face delicately, wanting to hold the moment there.

"_Oh, _Gabriella's been being _naughty," _came a voice from behind them, and Gabriella felt all her senses hit a live-wire, a cold sweat setting in. She instantly broke away from Troy, flushing scarlet.

She turned in terror to find none other than her cousin, Amber, smirking with disbelief and mischief, leaning against the front door frame, and instantly worried how long she'd been stood there, because even though Troy had been parked out the way, mostly out of sight, she wouldn't put it past her nosy cousin for spying on them. Gabriella quickly gave the once over, and noted how she was wearing almost the exact same clothes as the last time she had seen her; loose fitting, low-neck tank top and tiny denim short-shorts that were frayed at the ends with sequin pockets, that were so short, Gabriella noted snidely, that they were practically underwear. She had the legs for such small shorts though, Gabriella reasoned reluctantly. Her legs seemed to go for miles before you even thought about getting down to her converse-clad feet. She was taller than Gabriella, though not by much, it still irked Gabriella no end, and her hair was perfectly wavy, her green eyes shining. Her legs, her body, it was perfect, and it all worked like it should. She had no idea how lucky she was. If it was not for her awful attitude problem, Gabriella realised she would probably envy her more than almost anyone. Gabriella swallowed a great lump of all-too-familiar resentment.

She felt Troy's fingers still at her neck, and as she turned back to him, she could she he had noticed _her _too.

"Hey Gabriella! Hey _Troy_!" she called, too loud, and Gabriella knew instantly what she was doing––gaining all attention possible, while also trying to cause maximum embarrassment. She cringed, hearing voices in the backyard coming closer, that of her mother and aunt.

Gabriella ignored her, turning back to Troy.

"You should go," she muttered, subtly trying to push him away against his chest. Troy didn't miss the way she was no longer the happy, carefree smiling girl she had been moments before. She was ducking her head, avoiding any eye contact, wringing her hands. She was back inside her shell, where he could barely reach her. He frowned slightly, eyeing the tall, striking West High cheerleader on the porch with caution as she maintained her coy expression.

"Gab," he whispered, taking her chin in his fingers, leaning down, his nose grazing hers. Her body language was stiff, as she struggled to relax in the presence of Amber, an obvious threat that made her feel uncomfortable and judged. He leant forward, with deliberate slowness, and met her lips with his. She kissed back only slightly, relaxing slightly at the feel of his warm skin under her hand.

"Please don't shut me out," he whispered for only her to hear as they were eye to eye, his lips touching her forehead, after she nodded, in a gentle kiss. "I'll see you soon."

Gabriella nodded numbly, gripping him for a moment longer before letting him go from through the window. "I shut everybody out," she muttered. "But I'm trying not to anymore, Troy. Really."

Troy frowned, leaning out the window to wrap a strong arm around her, burrowing his face in the crook of her neck enough to fell the perfume of her skin and her hair, softly pressing a kiss there. As he pulled away, the pad of his thumb traced her lower lip gently as he smiled kindly. "I know you are," came his gentle murmur.

Gabriella smiled weakly, opening her mouth to speak.

"Gabriella? Is that you?"

Maria Montez leant out the front door behind Amber.

Gabriella turned, embarrassed. "Hi, mom."

"She's busy with her boyfriend," Amber added needlessly as Maria went back inside.

Gabriella ignored her. "Bye Troy. See you tomorrow."

As she walked in her own unique way––though she was trying desperately to walk as straight as possible––up the path on the front lawn, she couldn't hold back a bashful, happy smile as she watched him call after her with a a kind voice and a wink. "See you later, baby."

As Troy drove away, Gabriella made her way up the porch steps. Amber was still smirking, but her eyes read a much more surprised expression.

"What the fuck? I mean, wow,_Troy Bolton,_ Gabriella? _Really_? How the fuck did you manage that, because I would _love _to know."

Gabriella ignored her tone, making her way into the house. Little did her cousin know, her pessimistic inner self had been repeating this same sneering statement ever since their first kiss.

"I mean, he's so sexy," Amber probed, apparently innocently. "Doesn't that scare you, considering the kind of girls he's normally into, and how different you are from them?"

Gabriella bit her tongue as to not snap at her to cut it out. She knew the innocent attitude was just her cousin's current chosen role. She could switch in an instant when she wanted to.

"That's none of your business," she ground out. "But yes, yes, he is...and, I don't think about it, because it's irrelevant," Gabriella paused, turning to her cousin with a patronising tone and smirk of her own and her speak slowed for added effect, "Irrelevant, by the way means, means _not worth mentioning_."

"I know what it means," Amber barked back, quickly smirking to recover herself. "So, have you done _it_ yet?"

Gabriella rolled her eyes, desperately trying not to turn to being aggressive, because she would really love to. She walked past Amber, silently, knowing Amber knew the answer.

Amber mumbled something in her usual ignorant way, something like _'Didn't think so,'_ before smirking arrogantly again and turning to go out into the garden. Gabriella sighed once she was alone, basking in the tranquility of the quiet. Suddenly she felt a vibration in her pocket, and so pulled out her phone, only to fell onto the sofa with what she saw.

**_'__When you're tired of racing and you,_**

**_Found you never left the start._**

**_Come on baby, don't let it break your heart._**

**_And even if your aims are shadows,_**

**_Still we're never gonna part._**

**_Come on baby don't let it break your heart.'_**

_Nothing compares to this, to you.  
>Thank you for yet another great weekend.<em>

_T xxxxxx_

Gabriella grinned, sighed and swooned simultaneously. Coldplay lyrics. Yet another British band she loved. How did he know? She read over them again, and realised how easily they fitted her and her actions. She smiled to herself. _Hmmm. How to reply?_

**_'Yes, I feel a little bit nervous,_**

**_Yes, I feel nervous and I cannot relax,_**

**_How come they're out to get us?_**

**_How come they're out when they don't know the facts?'_**

There, lyrics from Coldplay's 'Hurts Like Heaven,' should do it. She smiled, adding:

_I think you'll find it's you who does not compare. _

_No, thank YOU. It was so lovely. xxxxxx_

As Gabriella walked up to her room, cleared away her things and then lay on her bed, she received a reply containing some of Coldplay's most famous lyrical work, from there first single 'Yellow.' She covered her mouth with her hand.

**_'Your skin,_**

**_Oh yeah, your skin and bones,_**

**_Turn into something beautiful,_**

**_And you know,_**

**_For you I'd bleed myself dry._**

**_For you I'd bleed myself dry.' _**

_Yes, it was. Just like you. xxxxxxx_

Gabriella sighed, grinning to herself, mentally wishing she could just call him and say nothing, just to be on the phone with him. She just wanted to be with him. All the time. She was craving him ridiculously. She sighed, pressing her pillow to her face. _Oh, Troy. I love you, I love you, I love you. _She scrunched up her face, trying not to feel the happiness his words had given her spreading to every cell of her body, but it was infectious, and soon she was giddy, practically laughing as she read and re-read text messages from him.  
>Without Troy, she would be lost in the abyss of loneliness again. He was so fun, so exhilarating, so carefree and open, and he never failed to make her eel that way. He made her feel less damaged, less awkward, more wanted and loved. He made her feel herself, made her feel...<em>alive<em>.  
>This had to work out, it had to, otherwise she knew her heart was going to be shattered. She would be ruined, crushed, with absolutely no means of repair, because, losing him would mean losing herself.<p> 


	21. Innocence to the Rooftops

_Hey readers! I love you & I'm sorry. I know it's been super super long since I updated, but know that I have been thinking about this plot the whole time and just figuring how to do it justice for you. Here's a lil chapter for you guys that may clear a few things.  
>Oh, and hello to all new readers! Welcome! I hope you're liking it! Please reviewww!<br>Will be updating soon! PROMISE!_

**_Disclaimer: I own nowt. All Disney._**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Innocence to the Rooftops<em>**

Gabriella felt her heart hammering against her ribs as she stood by her locker the following Monday. She could hear it in her ears, it was pumping so hard she could swear it was going to burst through her chest. Only this time it wasn't because of embarrassment, or ridicule, but... a fantasy. She had been picturing how her future may pan out the entire remainder of her weekend after her date with Troy.  
>Wait, was it even a date? She wasn't sure.<p>

She felt high on air, as it passed through her nose and out her mouth as increasing speed. This never happened to people like her. People like Troy, who could have anyone they wanted, weren't meant to be completely honest and sweet in high school, they just _weren't_, and they certainty weren't meant to look twice at people like her... So why did _he_?  
>She couldn't wait to see him again, even though it had been less than twenty-four hours. It felt the minute she left him that she didn't have a direction; like he was her north pole, she couldn't help but be drawn to him. She tried to concentrate on the books she needed as she stared into her locker, but she seemed to have lost all sense of any priorities.<p>

She smelt it then, his Old Spice aroma, and she bit her lip and closed her eyes. A second later, gentle hands held her hips. Warm pads of fingertips along hipbones.

"How was your Sunday?" came his voice, soft in his ear.

She grinned, blushing the deepest of scarlets. "Well..." she feigned innocence. "I woke up in this guys bed. It wasn't the greatest night, you know... I mean, it was okay." She smirk widened. "_Buuut_ I don't think I'm gonna see him again."

His grip tightened, his lips at her neck. "Oh, really? Oh Gabriella, but you'll destroy him."

"Hmm, well if you insist," she began, curling hands on top of his as she turned. She was greeted by his soft blue eyes, wide crooked smile, east high clinging t-shirt. _Oh, boy, _she swooned.

"Am I going to be given a good morning kiss, or am I just going to have to steal one?"

Gabriella swallowed, contemplating this, looking around them at the students littering the hallway, some pretending not to notice them but actually staring inquisitively, others not even caring. But she kept looking for a moment longer, until she found her. A meek-looking brunette standing down the hall by her locker, instantly looking away the minute Gabriella's eyes met hers. There was always one. The lonely, supposedly geeky girl who stood and pretended to be engrossed in a book, when actually she was taking in every moment of schools most talked about couple because she'd never had any moments like that herself, never known love. She _knew_ this girl, this stranger she could feel gazing at her now, because until not too long ago, she had _been_ her. That young, innocent looking geeky girl. That had been her. She _was _still her, wasn't she?

Gabriella swallowed, looking back at her... _boyfriend, _suddenly feeling almost like a _woman _for the first time. She wasn't that gazing little girl anymore. She _had _the guy. _Wait, what?_ Since when wasn't she _that_ girl anymore?

"You can steal one," she finally replied softly, focussing her eyes back to him, not feeling confident enough to initiate contact in the hallway.

"Hey," he murmured with an oblivious smile. "Are you alright?"

She smiled, a genuine smile, slipping a hand into his, feeling powerful, yet alien. "I'm good. I feel...anew, is all."

Troy's smile suddenly lifted, excitement in his eyes. "Me too, Gabriella," he muttered softly. "Me too."

Suddenly there was a presence, and suddenly the whirlwind that was Taylor McKessie behind them. Gabriella cringed, realising that, with all the excitement, she had forgotten to give Taylor the low-down. _Again. _

"Gabriella," she muttered through gritted teeth, trying to appear complacent. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" Gabriella gulped, quickly grabbing her books. "Can I please have my best friend back, Bolton?"

Gabriella rolled her eyes, noting how Troy was repressing laughter. Did he not realise Taylor had violent tendencies?

"Of course, Taylor. I wouldn't want to get in the way of your all-important gossiping about how great I am," he joked, teasingly, only jarring Taylor more. Gabriella sighed, her gaze darting to him in warning.

"Be quiet, you," she warned in a husked voice. This also did not go unnoticed by Taylor as she turned away, knowing Gabriella would follow.

"I'll see you later," she said, softly, leaving his side before he could make a move to initiate intimate contact, begrudgingly letting her hand slip from his. She craved his contact but suddenly she felt withdrawn and timid, perhaps because Taylor intervention brought her out of the weekend haze. Self consciously watching the floor, Gabriella followed her friend with both giddiness and dread, knowing Troy would be watching her walk away. _Please don't watch me walk, please. It's horribly unattractive_. _Don't look._

A moment later, Taylor yanked her dazed friend into the girls bathroom. Looking around to make sure to make no one was around, Taylor turned to her and launched her attack.

"So, what the hell happened?"

Gabriella bit her lip shyly. "We went to the wedding. We talked––well, _I talked––_and he listened. We danced. We got a little tipsy. We went back his house. I stayed over..." She paused awkwardly, not wanting to say it. "_And..."_

_ "And...?!"  
><em>"He may have..." She swallowed, looking anywhere but into Taylor's curious face. "We may have made out..."

"Made out as in..."

Gabriella cringed, knowing what she was about to admit out loud. "He had his head up...my––_his__––_band shirt_,"_

There was a moment of quiet as Taylor stared at her, not even blinking. Then, "Shit you move fast, girl!"

Gabriella swallowed, closing her eyes. "It wasn't like that. It was just the––"

"––The moment, I know," Taylor finished, speaking softer with an expression that was almost a smile. Taylor brought her friend into a quick hug. "Gabi, are you happy?"

"That's a stupid question."

"No, I mean... Does Troy make you happy?"

Gabriella swallowed, stepping away from her friends embrace. "So far, very much so, yes."

"Just..." Taylor sighed, trying to be cautious with her words. "Just be careful. Promise me you won't rush into anything just because he's a jock and you think you have to..."

Gabriella smiled at her friend. "I won't. He's not getting _this_ that easier," she joked, motioning to her body, causing them both to giggle. "Come on. We better get to class."

"So," Taylor began, linking arms with her best friend as they exited the bathroom. "Tell me. Is Troy as good a kisser as they say?"

**༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺**

It had come to Gabriella's attention, quite instantaneously during class, that Troy Bolton had ticked almost every metaphorical box on the ideal-first-love list in her head. She had complied it around the age of fourteen, as her parents marriage fell apart, after realising that she had no hope of any _actual _boy wanting her, and so she invented one in her head. He had no face, no name, but a serious of her idea of dream characteristics Stereotypical as it was, Gabriella's list fell under four basic divisions: beautiful, deep eyes, a kind heart, an intellectual mind, and, most of all, he had to actually _like _her, _truly. _Without this, the other points on the list were irrelevant.

And though Gabriella did not know by any means if Troy actually _did _like her, she seemed sure somewhere deep down that he just one of those people who didn't dislike anyone. The only question left, after Troy's _definitely beautiful _blue eyes; sweet, seemingly limitless kindness; and extremely bright mind, was could he ever love her like she knew she already loved him?

The worst part was not that her mind was screaming that he couldn't possibly love her, but that, from all the looks she had received since word got out, everyone else was thinking it too.

**༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺**

_Meet me on the roof. Pronto. ;)  
><em>_T xxxx_

Gabriella grinned at the note that fell out of her locker as she peered at it, checking over her shoulders more than once. She found herself wondering, guiltily, was it _actually _from him, or was it some kind of cool prank? She didn't even know Troy's handwriting.

She took a deep breath as the lunch bell rang, wondering towards the stairwell that led to the roof. Looking at the grey door in front of her, she was pretty sure people weren't supposed to go up there.

"Troy?" she called as she opened the heavy doors, feeling the sun hit her face. There were stairs leading up from the door, and she could see no one. Was this a prank, after all? She shyly made her way up the stairs ahead of her, gripping the banister. As she turned the corner though, she paused, gazing as a dark-haired male, who was stood with his back to her looking out at the city, turned to her.

"You found me," he smiled gratefully, watching her as she gripped the banister, uncertain whether or not to move.

She swallowed, suddenly shy and nervous. "Are we even allowed to be up here?"

Troy took a few agile steps towards her. "Well, the science club are, for some of their experiments," he said, motioning to the veranda above his head. "Thanks to them, none of the rest of my buddies know it exists."

Gabriella smiled. "I can't lie, I'm a little relieved about that."

Troy laughed, but as he sobered, he suddenly noted how she hadn't moved. He tipped head to the side as his hair blew in the gentle breeze. He extended a hand toward her, silently urging her to let down her walls. After a last moment of self-conscious hesitation, Gabriella stepped up the last few steps towards him, slipping a cool hand into his warm one.

"As premature as this may seem to say, I hate being away from you," Troy said as they both looked out at the view. Gabriella's brows were pulled into a frown. "Because then every time I come back its like you've convince yourself you need build up your walls again."

His tone was kind, though matter-a-fact, as the pad of his thumb traced her boney knuckles.

Gabriella smiled at him with disbelief, How did he do that? "You got me... I don't mean it," she replied, even softer than he had spoken, looking everywhere but him. "It's just going to take me a long time to get used to this... Being wanted... Having someone like me... Being someone's..._girlfriend." _She laughed once out-loud at the notion, and Troy brought his gaze back to her, catching the smile on her face. "Being the most talked about girl of the semester, too, apparently––which is all_ your _fault."

"Yes, it is. Everything always is," he replied wistfully, making her laugh even more. "I honestly find it so unbelievable that you've never been anyone's girlfriend, Gabriella," Troy remarked as she moved to fit on the wooden bench beside them. "Were you just not interested in any of the guys or something?"

Gabriella shook her head. "No, it wasn't that... I thought I told you. It was because I never even got the _opportunity_ to be anyones girlfriend. No one ever asked me... Until you, obviously. Though, you were drunk."

Troy stood, his expression a total image of disbelief. "No guy ever asked you out? Not at _all_?"

Gabriella smiled despite her lonely past, because it was almost hilariously pathetic. "Nope, never."

Troy moved to sit next to her, his brows knitting together, the 'V' appearing, as cocked his head to the side. A disgruntled, bemused expression. "That's... insane."

Gabriella scoffed at his description, leaning on the back of the bench. "_Pathetic_ is what it is."

Troy straightened, watching as she locked up at the sky with the back of hair head leaning on the back of the bench. "No, Gabriella, it's... so refreshing," he approached in a much softer voice, watching as she turned toward him. A moment later, he inclined forward and kissed her lips impulsively. Gabriella felt her whole body flutter, and stomach knot and tug and then unknot again, however at the usual point where he would pull away, he didn't. This time, he drew back by millimeters, only to kiss her again, at a slightly different angle, with differing pressure. His hand had found its way to cupping her neck and jaw almost possessively, physically pulling her into the kiss. Her fingers travelled up the soft material of his shirt, feeling the warm presence of a young, fit, male body beneath. Blood pulsing throughout. Heat and desire everywhere. The sound of their lips parting was like the ringtone of a tiny piece of heaven, something Gabriella never thought she would experience.

She sighed against his lips, trying to expression her need to be close to him, but all to soon he pulled away. Though only a romantic kiss without much tongue at all, it had felt like so much more.

"Troy––" she began.

"Gabriella, would you like to go a date with me?"

Caught of guard, she used her usual method of reflection away attention, by replying with a question. "Like... a real one? An actual date?"

With a nervous scratch to the back of his neck, Troy hesitated. "Well like... Yeah."

Gabriella's smile broke out as she shuffled in a rather unladylike manner along the bench until their was no space between them. "You're serious?"

Troy curled an arm around her shoulders, lips touching her temple as he chuckled at her innocence. "Yes, I'm serious... I have no idea what we're gonna do yet, but I'm definitely serious."

Gabriella smiled against his collarbone, leaning into the warmth of his body. "You smell so good," she sighed without thinking. She felt his chuckle rumble from under her.

"Well, I think _you _smell good," he sighed, nuzzling his face noisily into the exposed nape of her neck. As she giggled at his antics, Gabriella felt her phone buzz in her pocket, reaching into her jean pocket to retrieve it. She looked down at it, seeing numerous Facebook notifications, feeling slightly alarmed at the sight of, "...commented on Troy Bolton's photo of you."

"You uploaded the photos," she stated, trying not to be panicked by the idea.

Troy hesitated with a almost smug smile, looking over her shoulder at her phone screen. The image loaded, and Gabriella visibly cringed at the sight of herself, slightly tipsy, in her maxi dress in Troy's room after Alicia's wedding. She couldn't deny, the professional level of the camera model did make the photograph beautifully clear and balanced in colour. She was smiling through the camera, her expression one she had never seen on her face before, one she seemed to have adapted especially for a particular young man...

"Hey now, no more of that," he tutted with feigned authority. "No more doubting yourself. You're so very pretty, don't you know that?"

Gabriella felt a scoff bubble up in her throat instantly, as she felt a hot blush cover her cheeks and up her neck. She looked down at her hands, unable to meet his eye.

"Hey," he murmured, taking her head in his hands. "Listen to me," he said, his voice with a sudden edge of determination. "You are sweet, and smart, and very, _very _gorgeous. Do not doubt yourself because of others, because they aren't you." He leapt up, being his energetic self that was almost exhausting. "Be yourself, Gabriella," he murmured gently, ruffling her hair playfully with affection, before taking a step back and spinning once on his heel. "Everyone else is taken."

"I believe you stole those last words from Oscar Wilde," she giggled, naturally dejecting his compliment, though feeling massively touched at his words. She could see he was shy about appearing too intense, and so lightened the mood by laughing some more.

He held up his hands with a crooked smile. "You caught me, but honestly," he leant down so they were eye to eye, "I wish you'd just take a compliment, because you deserve it." With another hot blush, they both looked back at the view. Taking her hand, Troy distractedly traced his fingers along her palm, creating the sensation of burning patterns along her skin. "Joking aside, I truly, truly mean it."

Gabriella smiled weakly, feeling deeply self conscious and strangely emotional. No one had ever said that to her before. "Thank you," she whispered, looking into his unfathomable cobalt eyes bravely, even though eye contact in such a situation caused her to practically shake with anxiety. She leant up, a hand gripping his shoulder, and kissed his cheek, very careful to make slow as not to fall due to her lack of balance. The skin of his cheek was smooth, freshly shaved, and surprisingly soft. _Hmm, _she mentally digressed for a moment. _How she would love to watch him shave._  
>A moment before she pulled back, he kissed her opposite cheek, causing her to giggle and pull away with a look of false annoyance.<p>

"Thank you for the compliments, Bolton..." She smirked. "...I just wish I could say the same to you."  
>With a dropped jaw and raised, thick eyebrows, Troy feigned shock comically. "Excuse me? What did you say to me?"<p>

"Nothing," she giggled hurriedly, dashing slightly away from him.

"You're gonna' get it," he threatened with false malice, rushing toward Gabriella as she dashed to his left past a row of science club plant experiments. This had not been a clever idea, she realised too late, as she lost her balance and fell over her dominantly inward facing foot while turning a corner away from Troy, and as a result fell hard down a step to the ground. With almost silent exclamation, Gabriella felt her whole body make contact with the hard floor, and instantly cringed keeping her eyes shut even once she was still on the ground. After what couldn't have been more than half a second, she heard him stop laughing.

"Shit! Gabriella, Gabriella?!"

With a soft giggle to cover her flooding embarrassment and pain, Gabriella opened one eye, looking up at Troy's crouching figure. He sighed heavily with relief, as for a moment he had mistaken her shaking shoulders for crying rather than laughter. "Don't lie," she remarked boldly with humour. "If I had been anyone else, you would be stood there laughing at me, and not dashing to my side."

Troy knelt by her, subtly checking her over by stealing glances at her long limbs. "Oh ye of little faith," he joked, smiling crookedly, though Gabriella could see the concern behind his eyes. She made a move to get up, dreadfully embarrassed.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he checked. Gabriella rolled her eyes.

"You have _no _idea how often I fall over, do you?" she smiled, moving to sit up. He helped her gently.

"Well..."

"This, that fall before Easter in Ms. Darbus' class, they're nothing new. Up until I was about thirteen I used to fall over at least once a day, like, properly, flat on my face." Troy frowned a little more, though Gabriella simply seemed in no pain, and her tone was oblivious to how her lack of balance and past falls intrigued him. He had always been one to have great agility and coordination. "I even have scars," she laughed, looking him in the face. "Wanna' see?"

Troy felt humour overtake him. How was it possible for one girl to cheer him up so much when he didn't even need it? "Sure––I'll show you mind if you show me yours."

Gabriella smirked almost seductively, raising her eyebrows. "Game on."

She shifted to move back to the bench, and Troy didn't miss the sound of her wince.

"You're limping," he stated as she moved slowly the bench.

"Oh," she feigned surprise, though he could see right through her. "Am I?"

Troy walked back to her and knelt at her feet. "Where?" he asked, cryptically, knowing from the kind strength of his tone she would know his meaning.

"Just my hip. I'm fine." She was determined not to need his concern, though the very idea he _did _care rather than laugh at her was thrilling. He went to protest, so she pulled up the side of her shirt, wincing at the breeze reaching the broken skin. It was not nearly as bad as it felt, a simple graze, there would be more on her knees most likely for sure. "See?" she prompted with a smile, quick to move to cover herself again, self conscious of how the skin there, though soft, was untoned. He stopped her a moment before the material fell, blowing cool air onto the graze tenderly. She watched him for a moment, noting how this was the type of act a father would do. "You really are a doctor at heart already, aren't you?"

Troy looked down, a rare moment of vulnerability. It was clear he was shy talking about his true intentions for his life. "I'm not so sure about that."

"I am," she reassured, softly touching the side of his face for a mere second, bringing his gaze back to her. "And so I'm sure others have noticed, too. Chad, your dad––"

"My dad wouldn't notice anything I wanted these days if it hit him in the gut," he said, his voice suddenly almost dejected, but with a blunt edge to it. "He's too convinced that my dream is his dream... When I'm pretty sure it's not anymore... Not at all."

"He wants you to go pro," she predicted, feeling even more emotionally level with him.

"At University of Albuquerque. Yeah," he sighed, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes for a moment. Leaning into him, Gabriella kissed his jaw.

"You can do whatever you want with your life, Troy," she breathed. "But I'm just going to say this now: If you're not a doctor someday, it would be real waste."

Troy's lips tugged into a reluctant smile. He huffed out a disbelieving laugh. "I've never told anyone about this, so the fact you've figured it out..." There was a tender pause. "You're very observant."

"Well... I..."

When she seemed to be struggling for words, Troy pressed his lips to her face, curling her into his body against the breeze.  
>Gabriella looked down at her phone in the silence of the moment, trying not to stare at Troy's photogenic beauty. Looking back at Facebook, she swallowed suddenly with shock. "Holy shit," she exclaimed. Troy pulled back, giving her quizzical look with raised dark eyebrows.<p>

"What?"

"The photo! The photo of me! It's got 30 likes!" she exclaimed with genuine shock.

Troy just looked at her, head to one side, with a smug smile that screamed 'I told you so.'


	22. Freefall

_Yo lovely people. It's been a while, but here's the latest chapter. Let me know what you think before the next one! :)  
>P.S. thanks for all new reviewers and interest shown. <em>

_PEACE & LOVE,  
>x x x STARSWalkBACKWARD x x x<em>

* * *

><p><em>Your beautiful eyes<br>Stare right into my eyes.  
>and sometimes I think of you late at night,<br>I don't know why.  
>I want to be somewhere where you are,<br>I want to be where..._

_You're here, You're eyes are looking into mine._  
><em>So baby, make me fly.<em>  
><em>My heart has never felt this way before.<em>  
><em>I'm looking through your,<em>  
><em>I'm looking through your eyes.<em>

_I wake up, I'm alive._  
><em>In only a little while... I'll cry.<em>  
><em>Cause you're my lullaby.<em>  
><em>SO baby come hold me tight cause I-I,<em>  
><em>I want to be everything you need,<em>  
><em>I want to be where...<em>

__You're here, You're eyes are looking into mine.  
>So baby, make me fly.<br>My heart has never felt this way before.  
>I'm looking through your,<br>I'm looking through your eyes.  
><em>  
>Just as long as you're mine,<br>I'll be your everything tonight.  
>Let me love you, kiss you,<br>Oh baby let me miss you.  
>Let me see your,<br>Dream about,  
>Dream about your eyes.<br>...Beautiful eyes._

_––"Beautiful Eyes" - Taylor Swift_

* * *

><p><strong>Freefall<strong>

"You trust me, right?"

"Troy," Gabriella giggled as he hands remained over her eyes as he walked behind her. "I mean it. I've never been all the way to the out-of-town mall before. What are we doing here?"

"You'll see, I promise."

For the fourth time in minutes, Gabriella also fell over her own feet due to her lack of sight and being so close to another body, catching her heels on his toes.

"I'm gonna' fall," she giggled, trying to appear nonchalant, though she was worried she might. She could hear the echo of bustling people in a large space, and she felt her stomach flutter anxiously.

"I won't let you fall," he challenged with a small smile, knowing he had no intention of letting her. He uncovered her eyes, watching at she blinked, disorientated, and blushed a light pink as she realised they were surrounded by people when he'd been covering her eyes.

"I should think so. Those damn biceps have to useful for something," she jibed, and he feigned a gasp in her ear, snaking his arms around her middle, squeezing hard. She felt the contours of his muscles as he held her, with a smitten smile.

"I seem to remember you stating my biceps do certain things to you," he smirked in jest, loving how the soft flesh of her waist felt under his hands.

"Hmm, well," she pretended to ponder in a smirk. "Perhaps I changed my mind."

He chuckled lowly. "We'll see about that." Now is was his turn to smirk.

"Where are you _going?" _she urged again, confused as they came to a halt.

"We're here now," he replied, reluctantly withdrawing his hands from around her.

"Where _is_ here?" she asked a second too soon, only to look up and realise what he had in mind for their first date activity. They were in the mall downtown, which was very large, with lots of activities and departments as well as stores. Her gaze caught the giant sign in front of them under the bright lighting, and she desperately tried to swallow her disappointment. _iFly_: _Indoor Skydriving Tunnel. _She bit back a desperate, nervous groan of dismay. He didn't know her at _all! _She didn't _do _sport, _at all––_especially not extreme! She took a moment for breath, trying desperately not to display her anxiety on her face.

"We're going _skydiving?" _she questioned dryly, trying to sound nonchalant, but failing miserably.

Troy smiled at her distasteful tone. "Yes, we are."

"I don't do this stuff," she forced out as he took a step towards the iFly entrance, grabbing his elbow. "I mean, I..." She swallowed, feeling her vulnerability surface, _again. _

He smiled kindly at her, feeling guilt rise in his chest. "We don't have to," he confirmed quickly, "It's just I've done it before and I really thought you'd really like it once you tried it."

Gabriella sighed, torn by her fear of the new, of the unknown, and her desire to impress Troy and enjoy their first date. "Alright," she agreed reluctantly, but quickly fixed a nervous smile. "But if I die, _you _and _you alone _have to tell my mother."

He laughed wholehearted, gently taking her hand from where she gripped it with her other in front of her. Their fingers laced, and suddenly Gabriella felt stronger.  
>"That's fine."<br>"Alright then," she nodded more confidently. "Let's do it."

**༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺**

Gabriella sat nervously through the briefing with the skydiving instructor, wringing her hands until Troy took one from her lap and held in, attempting to calm her, tracing soft, subtle patterns on the back of her hand with the pad of his thumb. Gabriella's nerves soon transformed to embarrassment as each new-comer had to practice the typical 'skydiving' position on a padded bench at the front of the briefing room, lying on their stomach with arms up and bent at the elbows, palms facing down, thighs flat and feet towards the ceiling. This had to be done in front of the whole room, and Gabriella thanked the heavens she had chose to wear jeans rather than a dress. Next they were given full-length blue jumpsuits and were told to wear them over their clothes, as well as being given converse style shoes, all to avoid anyone losing any of their clothing. Gabriella held the jumpsuit in her hands and looked around at the other people surrounding the two of them as they were pulling on their own. She looked up at Troy, swallowing hard. "Could I hold onto you to pull this on? My balance is awful. I can never balance on one foot."

"Oh yeah, sure," he agreed, kindly, offering a hand and an arm, which she gripped with one hand while she pulled on the suit with the other. He noted how she placed almost all her body weight onto him, making him realise her statement of having awful balance was not an exaggeration. He watched her zip her suit up, and it did not skip his notice that she had to sit down in order to reach her feet and to avoid falling sideways when putting on her shoes.  
>Gabriella tied up her hair in a high, tight ponytail as Troy pulled on his jumpsuit and shoes over his narrow dark jeans and t-shirt with ease, in half the time it had taken Gabriella, and for a nano-second, she yet again she envied him for it, but quickly shook it off.<p>

As other customers busied themselves finishing getting changed, Troy turned to the counter, picking up two plastic packets.

"What––?" she asked, distractedly.  
>"Ear plugs," he informed, opening one and passing her the neon green rubbery pieces before opening the other. "They're buggers to get in but once you do you won't be able to hear a thing," he chuckled.<p>

"What are they for?" she asked.

"The tunnels insanely loud. Health and safety, you know."

Troy then picked up two helmets from the rack, testing one on the top of Gabriella's head, making her giggle as the contact electrically charged her hair, creating static.

"I have a big head," she teased in jest as the helmet was too small, though it was in fact the truth. Troy turned back toward her with a different helmet, gently pulling over her head, feeling it fit snuggly. He smirked at her statement, nearing closer to her so that Gabriella could make out every mark and freckle on his face. "Me too," he mouthed, wiggling his eyebrows in a manner that indicated he was definitely not talking about the size of the head on his _shoulders _at all. A grin broke out on Gabriella's face, and she laughed lowly at his innuendo, secretly thrilled by this.

"I don't doubt that," she whispered, feeling her heart stammer desperately, because she honestly _didn't_. The idea of Troy Bolton's dirty side made her insides tug and knot desperately, making her realise how much she secretly wanted him.

His eyes widened a little and he blinked once, before neutralising his expression with a crooked amused smile. "I love your laugh," he murmured as he ran a thumb down her cheek, almost to himself as he knew through her earplugs and helmet she wouldn't be able to hear him.

She frowned, sure she'd heard something, but instead leant into his side, as it suddenly dawned on her what they were in for. Troy pushed in his earplugs and pulled on a helmet, his eyes seeming brighter in contrast with his black headgear.

The group of fifteen customers, Troy and Gabriella among them, were lead into a skydiving chamber, which was circular glass with a bench lining the edge and had a large glass circular wind tunnel within it. They were instructed to sit, which was quite a squash due to the size of the group, and so Gabriella found to her delight that she sat with the side of her body flush against Troy's, feeling warmth gently radiate from him. She gulped frantically, fighting her inner instinct to run, to piece an excuse together. She looked up at Troy's beautiful profile, but even the sight of him did little to calm her.

"Hello everyone," greeted the iFly guide stood in front of the group, an athletic young man who couldn't be much older than Gabriella herself, in a loud voice so that all could hear him, even though they earplugs. "My name is Drew, and I'll be your iFly instructor today. Now that you've been through your briefing, you should know the basics of how to deal with the wind tunnel. There are a few aspects that you need to know before we start," he informed. "First, no walking around when the wind tunnel is in activation. Please stay seated at all times, until it is your turn. When you are called up, simply stand in the doorway like so," he instructed, standing in the smaller doorway that was cut out of the glass tunnel in front of them, "and take a normal step into the tunnel." He turned to the other instructor who sat at a computer and control panel in the corner. "Start it up, man," he said, and a moment later, the sound of rushing wind could be heard throughout the chamber. Troy picked up her hand from her lap and squeezed it, his excitement evident. "So, you take a normal step into the tunnel––like so," he said loudly, before taking an unconsidered, and seemingly effortless, step into the open air of the wind tunnel. Gabriella braced herself watching this, expecting him to fall down the rather large drop to the floor of the tunnel, except, to her amazement, he didn't. He remained completely level, as though floating, held upward by the strong upward force of air. Echoes of marvel sounded from the newcomers, and Gabriella heard the very same sound come from her own lips.

"Amazing, huh?!" Troy practically shouted over the noise millimeters from her ear. Gabriella simply turned slightly in her seat and beamed at him, nodding vigorously before her gaze trailed back to Drew in the tunnel as he bounced off the walls a meter or so higher than before. Suddenly the wind pressure increased and Drew was sent higher, meters above the onlookers heads, flipping without needing any surfaces off which to propel himself. It was remarkable. It gave him the kind of ease and grace Gabriella could only ever dream of displaying with her body in her life, and part of her instantly could not wait to try it. She had never felt light or agile before, and this seemed suddenly like the perfect opportunity to see what she had been missing, only ten times better.

"That's... wow... insane!" she exclaimed into his ear. Troy simply chuckled at the sight of her amazement, feeling the heat of her breath soft on his cheek. "I'm still so nervous though," she added, turning back to him.

"You'll be fine! I promise!" he shouted into her ear in reply, his hand softly rubbing her knee just as Drew grabbed onto the handles on either side of the tunnel doorway, pulling his feet down onto the solid platform using the strength of his arms, moving his body out of the grasp of the powerful current.

"Simply grasp the handles and pull your bodyweight back onto the rubber platform, like so," Drew explained in a loud slow voice, before pausing and regarding the customers. His gaze settled on Troy, and Gabriella noticed the spark friendly recognition in his eyes. "Who wants to go first?!" he asked the group in a clear voice over the noise. "Perhaps my buddy Troy over here could show us all how it's done?"

His tone was comical, to which Troy just chuckled before shyly moving to stand. "Oh, why not?!" His hand lingered on Gabriella's hand for a moment longer than necessary before he stood. "Hey, man!" he greeted with a lad-worthy smirk towards Drew as they man-hugged, demonstrating that how friendly the two were. _So he really wasn't fibbing when he said he had done this before, _she reasoned to herself.

"Alright then. Let's get this show on the road." Drew spoke and a moment later stepped into the tunnel, hovering again. Troy looked over his shoulder, meeting Gabriella's gaze one last time before stepping into the tunnel, but not before he threw her a quick, mischievous wink.

She exhaled sharply, feeling attraction deep in her gut as she watched him gliding with ease in the tunnel. _God_, he was dazzling.

After messed around for a minute, the two moved into the standard skydiving position that all the newcomers had practiced in briefing, which made it easier for the body to stay stable and simply float at a certain level. They grasped each other forearms, and a moment later, as the man at the control desk adjusted the wind level of the computer, the two rose up the massively tall glass wind tunnel to at least ten meters above Gabriella's head, and she stared with an open mouth and wide eyes. She barely heard the short, stunned laughter that escaped her throat as she leant forward in the loud space, craning her neck as she watched their bodies glide upward from the other side of the glass. The pressure of the wind was varied by the controller at the computer, and Gabriella's felt her heart leap into her mouth when, as the wind pressure dropped, so did Troy and Drew, free-falling fearlessly, though only half way, before the pressure was increased and they rose higher again, all at such a great speed. Suddenly, Gabriella couldn't wait to try it, though she only wished she could do it with Troy in the tunnel with her.

Once Troy's first go was up, she watched with a grin as Troy pulled himself skillfully back onto the rubber platform of the seating area in the chamber. She noted instantly the symptoms of an adrenaline rush, as Troy's eyes were wide with elation as a grin stretched across his face that matched her own. He hurried back over to her, squeezing back onto the bench.

"Troy!" she exclaimed over the sound of the tunnel. "That was, oh my god! I mean...you were... You were so high!"

"Shit, I love doing that!" he grinned, his breath at her ear.

"So Troy, is your lady up next?!" Drew called to them, and Gabriella instantly gulped, tension returning to her body.

"Umm..."

"Go on, Gab. I _promise _you you won't regret it," he reassured, as softly as he could over the noise. She gulped, moving to stand on shaky legs, surprised when Troy stood with her, taking soft hold of her arm. He looked down at her expression, seeing the fear of the unknown written across her face. Her gaze flittered from his face to the wind tunnel and back. He leant down, speaking into her hair in a loud enough voice, though only she could hear. "Do you trust me?!"  
>Gabriella swallowed her sudden need to swoon and throw up at the same time, and nodded. Troy pulled back from her hair, taking a deep breath, smiling reassuringly. "You can do this. I believe in you... I know you fear not being good enough, or taking a leap, but, I <em>know <em>you can do this. You're strong, stronger than you know. _Way _stronger than I'll ever be, all you need is to know you have a safety net, and that's what I'm hear for. So take the leap Gabriella." He tenderly ran a thumb over her tense lower lip, feeling it relax. Gabriella felt her heart ache at the sincerity that exuded from his beautiful irises that were the colour of the sky, and she found herself wondering, how had she ever doubted him? "_Trust me_," he urged, and to his pride, she nodded, more confidently this time, because this is what he did to her. His attitude to life was infectious. He helped her let go, made her fearless, and she realised how sublime it felt. With one last grateful smile his way, she nervously took a step towards Drew and the entrance to the wind tunnel.

"Oh, god," she whispered to herself as she reached him, exhaling with determination. Drew stepped out into the tunnel, standing on the tunnel floor, displaying his body strength as he resisted the pressure of the wind, urging Gabriella to stand on the edge of the doorway.

"Scared?!" Drew joked as his kind eyes watched her. She nodded, to which he just smiled. "You'll be fine. Now step out," he instructed.

"You can do it, Gabriella!" came Troy's reassuring cheer from behind her, making her flush. Before she could consider this decision anymore, Gabriella took the leap, stepping into the tunnel.

She felt the massive power of the wind pushing her up, and then just like that, as Drew gripped her forearms, she was _skydiving_, and it was exhilarating. She found her comfortable skydiving position, and as Drew eased his hold on her, she realised she was floating alone, with no assistance. Her eyes watered from the constant assault on her senses, and she could feel her whole body trembling, but a grin and elated laugh slipped from her lips anyway. She was sure this couldn't possibly be real.

"We're gonna go up!" informed Drew as he took a hold of Gabriella's body, pressing a strong hand flat on the small of her back as his other held her arms level, his body partially over hers. The air pressure increased, and suddenly the view of the floor Gabriella could see was becoming further away, as her body rose to the top of the chamber, over ten meters high, at a ridiculous speed.

"Oh my––?!" she began to exclaim, only to have the breath knocked out of her as the pressure dropped, sending both herself and Drew plummeting back towards the bottom of the tunnel like lightening. All that echoed through her mind in that instantaneous moment was that she had never known a thrill like it. The G-force pushed her face and adrenaline flooded every one of her senses, her heart stuttering almost painfully as a squeal of delight escaped her.

She was doing it. She was free-falling. She was letting go.  
>And boy, did it feel good.<p>

When she exited the tunnel, her legs were so shaky she almost fell as soon as they hit the solid rubber floor. Adrenaline buzzed through her like an electric current, and she was sure the smile she wore was splitting her face in two.

"Holy _shit!" _she exclaimed as she fell down onto the bench next to him, so wobbly she narrowly missed sitting half in his lap. Troy chuckled at her expression, placing a firm arm around her quaking form, proud to see she had gone through with it. "Oh my god!, That was... When we fell like that, I thought... it felt like––"

"––your brain's gonna come out your ears, yeah, I know!" he finished for her. "It's sick, right?!"

She sighed excitedly, grasping his shoulder and kissing him repeatedly on the cheek exuberantly, making him laugh as she squeezed his hand. "Yes, right! You're _exactly_ right!"

**༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺**

"Thank you so, so, so, much for making me do that!" she grinned as they collected their iSky photos of their dive.

"It was nothing _I _did. It was all you... But, anything to see that smile on your face," he murmured at he took her hand and lead her out of the iFly zone and back into the mall.

"Oh, Mr. Cheesy," she ribbed with giggle, only for him to playfully poke her ticklish sides, so she backed up towards the nearest wall, trying to hinder his onslaught through her giggles.

"_Cheesy, _am I?" His fingers tickled her side mercilessly, and she gasped for breath between pleas for him to stop.

"Troy! Please... I'm...really ticklish... _stop!" _Eventually he did so, both of them laughing, and he marveled in the sight of the slight flush to her cheeks and the spark in the eyes. She was seemed so light and free, and it was a delight for him to see the change in her.

"Stop," she gasped, in between giggles. "We're in the middle of the mall!" She held her sides, desperately needing more air. "You're so crazy, _honestly_."

Troy, also trying to catch his breath, albeit more gently, neared her with a shy smile, and she noted that it was much more of a rarity for him. Suddenly he was very close. "Crazy about you," he husked, their hands linking together. Nose to nose, Gabriella offered him her grateful smile.  
>"<em>Please<em>––" She scoffed, looking down at her feet bashfully, and she began to protest, but Troy simply rubbed a thumb along her lower lip. Instead, she sighed and looked up at him from under her dark lashes.

"I am. You're so special to me."

"And you to me!" she urged, quietly. "Thank you, Troy," she whispered, "For that, and for making me take that dive. You make me feel so...alive." She swallowed, suddenly emotional, she tightened her hold on his hand.

"Would it be totally cheesy to say you do the same to me?" he asked with a teasing smile. Gabriella frowned a little, not believing this. How could _she _make _him _feel alive? He obviously didn't know her as well as he thought he did if he thought _that _was the case...

"Hey," he cooed at her frown. "What is it?"  
>"Nothing," she shook off quickly. "It's nothing."<p>

"Gabriella," he probed. "I can't help you if you don't _talk _to me, and I really _want _to help you."

His voice was gentle, and Gabriella's heart began to ache again. She just couldn't seem to let this happen. It felt too easy. He needed to hear the truth, to hear the worst. Some may have called this self-sabotage, or self-destruction, and maybe it was, but she just couldn't let him believe such things until he'd heard everything bad she had to offer him, as well as all the good things.  
>"You wanna' get a drink and talk about it?" he asked, sensing the need for a real conversation.<p>

Gabriella sighed, gratefully. "How do you know exactly when my muscles need a break?" she joked.

Troy winked briefly. "I'm psychic," he replied in a false whisper pretending to be spilling a secret.

"Hmm," she hummed sarcastically, patting his head patronisingly, and when she spoke her tone was dry. "Whatever you say, big-boy."

**༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺**

"Thank you," Gabriella smiled as he passed her a Starbucks mocha, still feeling slightly jittery from the adrenaline-filled skydive. "You know, you paid last time we ate out...and the time before that..."

"I'm the guy," he replied earnestly, his expressive brows lowering. "That's my job. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let my girlfriend pay for her Starbucks?" He spoke defiantly with a little mirth, squinting as he brought his straw to his lips and look a long sip.

"Is that what we are?" she asked, her voice suddenly very small, something that he hadn't witnessed from her before. "For real?"

Troy swallowed his frustration at having to reassure her so often, as though she did not trust his motives, but he quickly shook it off, reminding himself she had never even been flirted with before, so no wonder she had doubts.

He sighed, scooting closer to her and peering into her eyes with furrowed brows. "Do you _want_ it to be?"

"Of course!" she defended quickly, "I just can't believe it sometimes, and I worry... because you barely know me," she challenged, she spoke as though to herself.

"Does that matter?" Troy questioned innocently.

Gabriella's eyes darted to his face, and he suddenly saw alarm and almost anger there. "Yes it matters! This is precisely my point. I can't afford to get into this, like, _really _into whatever _this_ is if it's just going to crumble... I have seen too many a relationship fail because one person makes themselves love who they _want _the person to be and not who they _are... _I don't want to get into it just for you to realise who you let yourself in for and leave––"

Bemused and hurt, Troy frowned at her, his blue eyes darkening. "––You...you really think that little of me?"

"No, no, I think that little of _myself!_" There was a pause, and she watched as he churned over her words, digesting them. She sighed deeply, leaning her forehead against the back of the booth for a moment, before picking up his hand and bravely kissing it. "Troy... Just hear me out. I know everyone you speak to in your group, or _not _for that matter, has an opinion about me. I know everyone talks about how I'm frigid and weird and antisocial and boring... and I know you know that they do..."

"I don't care about what they say," he started, and she smiled at him gratefully, but carried on.

"I know, but what worries me is that you may start to think you can prove them wrong now just because I've done one or two crazy things." She chewed her nailed, barely getting out the words. "I need you to realise that just because I sometimes act out of character, it doesn't mean I'm actually like that. I'm nothing like you in that way... I just don't want you to fall for a person that I'm not."

"So _tell_ me who you are. Lay it all out so we can finally move past this," he persisted. "I'm a nice guy, Gabriella, and I _understand _that you have baggage––everyone does––but damn it, I don't think this will last if you're always going to doubting me this way." He brought her hand to his lips in return.

"I know," she breathed. "I just wished I could shut my brain off. It's always running hundreds of different routes at once. I'm sorry. All my conversations with you come out jumbled. They sound ordered in my head, I swear," she chuckled.

Troy sipped his drink again as she did the same. "Don't apologise for having an active mind, Gabriella. It's an intriguing quality, that many people can't claim to have."

Gabriella leant up then, near enough to kiss him, nodding.

"Are you nodding? As in _acknowledging? _Are you..._accepting a compliment?" _His feigned shock was uncanny, causing Gabriella to crease with giggles, before her lower lip jutted out in a stubborn pout.

"No," she said in a small voice, but her grin gave away her amusement. Troy bravely leant down and kissed it, unable to deny his urged to do so any longer. He chuckled against her lips.

"Your lips are cold," he stated as she melted into the kiss.

"You bought me an iced mocha," she deadpanned. "Of course they are, Einstein."

"Hey––no making fun of my intelligence levels," he shot back, kissing her cheek for good measure, as they sat flush against each other. As she crossed her legs at the knee, the foot also crossed over his leg under the table, making them appear entwined.

"Tell me something I don't know yet, about you," Troy breathed as they leant against each other.

"Like what?" she smiled.

"Something that will make you feel more at ease that I'm falling," he gave her a eloquent look, swallowing hard, "..._have fallen..._for the real you."

It took all her willpower not to swoon, and so she covered up her attraction by pinching a sip of his drink, to which they both chortled. "Well..." she considered. "I'm the kind of personality where...I've always actually quite liked being alone. I like drinking alone, and reading alone. I _like_ the fact that every day since I started here I've rode the bus alone, and walked home alone. I like eating alone, and listening to music alone, because, well... It gives me time to think, and set my mind free, and I've always liked to maintain that..." Her tone was matter-of-fact, and Troy was sure he was falling harder for her with every word. "But, then, when I see a stay-at-home mother with her child at the mall, or a girl at school with her boyfriend, or someone laughing with their best friend they've known forever, it suddenly dawns on me that even though I've liked being alone, I don't fancy being lonely... Problem is, I've never found anyone who wanted _me_ to break their loneliness like I wanted them to break mine... _But," _she added, smiling that shy smile at him that made his heart swell. "Now I have you."  
>Troy nodded in confirmation. Yes she did. She did have him––in so many weird and wonderful ways she would never even know. She had found an entrance into his mind and soul that he was sure he had boarded up, and she had shyly climbed inside, seemingly just to ask for directions... Only now he didn't want her to ever leave for her original destination. He wanted her to stay.<p>

"There's this quote I know from somewhere," she went on, oblivious to his pondering, "'_The sky is beautiful, but the people are sad...' _That's what my life has always been..." The sun streaked through the window and lit up her skin, and Troy couldn't look away, though he didn't think there was a single solid reason as to why, just pieces of a puzzle he was yet to solve.

"I suppose, what I'm saying is all I have ever needed was someone who won't run away... Is that you, do you think?" she asked, as she looked down as they joined hands.

Troy pursed his lips and nodded defiantly, but also pretending to think hard about his answer, though it was obvious. "Luckily, I've never been a very good runner," he husked in jest, curling a tendril of her hair behind her ear.

Gabriella smiled, feeling as though all her cathartic energy had been released. All that remained was relief and contentment, laughing at the irony that he, a championship B-Baller, and she, a disabled, non-competitive stranger, had created a sports-based metaphor such as this.

She looked down at her disability-affected legs and rubbed one of them with her palm, dramatically "Well," she grinned, looking back up at him, "At least that makes two of us!"

"You want to come back to mine after this?" he asked, noting how her eyes drooped as lay a head on his shoulder, sipping her drink.

She nodded against him. "Yes, please... Although, my mom thinks I'm staying at Emily's," she added, and Gabriella felt her shy smirk against him.

"How mischievous of you, Miss Montez," he flirted, stroking her hair for a moment before he restrained himself. "You don't have to stay over though, if you don't want to."

"Are your parents out?" she asked subtly.

"They're upstate at a one of mom's hospital annual ball things, so you can come over and just watch a movie or whatever..."

Gabriella felt herself also quake with anxiety and excitement. "Sounds good," she agreed. "I like this new hair you're sporting, by the way," she commented, brushing a hand softly over the more spiked 'doo. He smiled shyly in response, his lips turned up at the corner.

"Thanks, baby," he said into her hair, kissing her there. There was a content silence as they continued consuming their drinks, and Troy took a deep breath, pulling out the item that had been burning a hole in his pocket and placing it in Gabriella's palm.

"What––?" she began, and Troy stopped her quickly, feeling anxious.

"Be my girlfriend, Gabriella." He urged softly, as he watched her look down at the 'T' pendant into her palm. It was silver in colour, and beautifully simple, and with a huff of surprise, her mouth hung open. "Let me show you I can be the one that won't run from you."

Gabriella looked up at him, close to losing her grip on her emotions, and despite the same old fear she felt niggling at her, she leant up and kissed him, hard and slowly, a palm against his neck. His lips were warm against hers, causing her to giggle.

"Is that a yes?" he whispered.

She pulled back, giving him a deadpanned look. "No, it's a big fat no." Her tone was sarcastic, making his grin, pulling her in for another impulsive kiss, his fingertips making her cheek tingle.

"No more doubting us, alright?" Troy asked against her cheek, and kissed her there when she agreed. Maybe they would be just fine, after all.


	23. Lucky Go Happy

_A/N: Heeeeeeeeey readers! What is up?!  
>Yes, I am alive, and yes, I'm very, very, very sorry for keeping you waiting so long... As a treat I have our first M rated chapter for you!;) Literally wrote this in 12 hours...<br>You're welcome!  
>Message me if you have any questions, and please review because I'm kind of nervous about wehat you guys think (if you're all still with me! LOL)!<em>

_LOVE & HUGS,_

_x x x STARSWalkBACKWARD x x x_

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing. All character rights belong to Disney. _**

**_This chapter is rated M._**

* * *

><p>FYI, the poems in this chapter are real, and there really is a poet on Tumblr called Lang Leav, and both poems here are by her. She's amazing! Go buy her book called Love &amp; Misadventure. It's beautiful...<br>In fact, her poetry kind of inspired this so... I'm placing it here at the beginning as inspiration.. :)

* * *

><p><em>"Never Before Was You" –– <em>by Lang Leav, Love & Misadventure.

_When I used to look above  
><em>_All I saw was sky;  
>And every song that I would sing<br>I sung unknowing why._

_All I felt and all I thought_  
><em>Was only just because;<em>  
><em>Never was it ever you<em>  
><em>Until it was all there was.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Lucky Go Happy<strong>

Gabriella felt her face flush deep red as she couldn't control her laughter, clutching her hand over her chest as tears sprouted from the corners of her eyes. "No, _no_!" She sputtered, desperately trying to catch her breath. "No, stop, don't look at them!" She swatted at the photos Troy was holding, currently experiencing similar hilarities, as his face was flushed and his eyes squinted at he clutched the paper in one hand and his stomach with the other.

"Ohh...oh my g-g-od!" Troy couldn't contain himself as he stumbled through his front door after Gabriella. "Y-you look..." he tried to string words together, but he could not draw in enough oxygen. "You look _o-off your face!"_

Gabriella laughed along with him as the snapshots taken by the camera in the skydiving tunnel, the G-force resulting in very questionable facial expressions in her photos, albeit with a few decent ones.

"Ohhh my god," Troy sighed as his laughter subsided, trying to level his breathing with shaky deep breaths, only to begin giggling again.

Gabriella rolled her eyes at him excessively, watching as he walked into his empty kitchen, turning on the lights and throwing down his keys. She suddenly forgot all humour as she watched his toe-off his converse, feeling herself swallow and eye him hungrily. He pulled off his jacket, clad in his signature tight t-shirt and bootleg jeans that hung from his hips deliciously. She could see the top of his boxers as he stretched, and she closed her eyes for a moment. _Oh give me strength! _she sighed internally. _Calvin Kleins!_

"You alright?" Troy's question broke through her reverie, and she blushed instantly.

"Fine," she breathed, pulling off her own shoes quickly, though still shy about her bunions on her feet. There was slight awkwardness filling her posture as they stood in quiet, both suddenly very aware they were alone in the quiet of Troy's home. One question filled the air. _What could happen here tonight?_  
>Troy felt a slight shyness take over him, feeling the pressure of being alone like this. Was she enjoying herself? he wondered. He hoped so.<br>After a moment of quiet, Gabriella felt her stomach shift, and the sound of a gurgling could be heard. Perhaps she was hungrier than she had thought.

Troy smiled warmly, chuckling, taking steps towards her, taking in a deep breath. "Hungry?"

He watched his favourite shy, infectious grin take over her features. He loved how this girl loved her food. "Do you really need to ask?"

He turned to the cupboards, tossing her an apron as he pulled one on himself. "So... what should we have?"

Troy watched with an appreciative gaze as Gabriella began making her favourite treats. They had prepared pizza, and while it cooked in the oven, Gabriella had sparked up the idea of making him her favourite party foods, Oreo truffles and spicy popcorn. She squeezed his bicep cheekily as she asked him to crush the packet of Oreo biscuits with a rolling pin, stating his muscles had to be efficiently made use of. He laughed and took the job, only to try not to hit is own thumb with the rolling pin as his gaze began to stray at the sight of Gabriella reaching up to place the popcorn packet into the microwave; her shapely backside and long legs becoming hard to ignore in her skinny-fit jeans.

"Why don't you take a picture?" she sniped in good humour, taking the one step toward him to taking hold of his chin, her face meeting his since he had gazed at her. "They say it lasts longer."  
>He felt himself blush a little, but quickly recovered by holding her at the waist and flashing a cheeky smile he knew would win her over. "So, should I go get my camera?" She narrowed her eyes at him, swiping his chest instantly. He laughed, knowing her response by this action alone.<p>

"What do I do with this?" he asked of his bag of Oreo crumbs.

"Um..." She paused, turning off the gas on which she had been melting her butter and spices mix for the popcorn. "Mix it with the cream cheese." He watched her walk in her usual way toward him; on her toes, one in-turned foot in front of the other. She smiled shyly up at him when she noted him still watching her. "I'll help you," she said gently, only to smirk in her usual, humourous way. "It's a messy job."

"Messy, huh?" he questioned, as a wayward finger curled into her jean belt loop to keep her close. "Can I help?"

She sent him a sideways glance. "Only if you keep your hands to yourself."

Somehow she knew he wouldn't. "Of course," he retorted, a hand on his heart with a tone of feigned innocence, attempting to quash the cheshire grin that threatened take dominance over his features.

"Okay, so, just mix the crumbs in with the cheese, but wet your hands first, otherwise it sticks."

Troy grinned at her authoritative, almost mothering tone as he dipped his hands under running water after her, watching as she pushed her fingers into the large bowl of mixture, kneading it together. He joined her, causing them to stand close together to reach into the mixing bowl, and he could not resist to look down through the corner of his eye at her face in the quiet of the kitchen.

"This feels weird," he commented, noting the cold, squelching texture of the mix.

"But tastes delicious," she scorned playfully, leaning down to suck a tiny piece of mixture off the back of her hand. Watching her lips close around her own skin, Troy felt his mouth fill with saliva, but it had nothing to do with the Oreo mixture.

"Mm, yum," she hummed, oblivious to the desire pulsing through his veins. He felt the mix squeeze completely out of his fisted hands as he tried to resist.

"What now?" He asked as the crumbs were completely folded into the cream cheese, clearing his throat discreetly.

"Now, we make balls," she informed with an attempt to be nonchalant, though he witnessed the corner of her mouth twitch in attempts reframe from laughter.

"Balls, huh?" he inquired needlessly with equally nonchalance, enjoying watching her squirm while she attempted to reign in the immaturity within her. "What are they like?"

Again, she squirmed under his gaze, this time also accompanied by a hot blush that crept up her neck and filled her cheeks as she washed her hands. _By god_, how he loved her blush.

"Don't," she warned breathlessly with slight playfulness, "Otherwise we're never going to finish these."

A crooked grin took over his lips. "I have _no_ idea what you're talking about," he smirked, but began happily rolling the mixture into circular shapes in his wet palms, leaning over to place a soft, quick kiss of the side of her head with a smile.

As they rolled the mixture in content silence, Troy quizzed Gabriella on facts he did not know about her. Her favourite colour; to which her answer was blue, (the colour of his eyes); her favourite novel, she couldn't possibly pick just one; favourite film, which was the entire Harry Potter series; her old best friend's name, the answer to which she couldn't say as she couldn't remember a best friend before Taylor; and her life's dream, to which she replied, to be happy, as other than that, she had no idea. As they then began to melt chocolate in a pan, Gabriella learnt Troy's favourite colour was red as it was that of passion and motivation, and not because of East High; his favourite novel was 1984, as he says the hidden message of society has always stayed with him, and his favourite film was Inception.

"Troy, careful! You're going to get chocolate everywhere!" she giggled as he attempted to cover one of the last of their Oreo truffles in the melted chocolate, dripping it on the floor at his feet by accident.  
>"Hey, this is more difficult than it looks!"<p>

"I gave you _one _job, Bolton, one job!" she giggled, as they both were becoming covered in chocolate as it slipped from their wooden spoons as they laughed. Gabriella quickly slipped the surviving truffles into the Bolton family fridge.

"Hey Gabi," Troy called as she shut the door, so she turned quickly in response, only to receive a spoonful of chocolate to the side of the face, as Troy had been holding it out, waiting for her to move into it.

He broke in chuckling as she stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed as she let out a found of surprise. However, a second later, "Right!" she exclaimed, splatting her chocolate-covered spoon onto Troy's cheek, spreading it downward. Both suffering from infectious laughter, the chocolate continued to be flicked and spread across skin until Gabriella threw down her spoon and used her chocolatey hands instead. Troy followed, attempting to pore the now cool pan of chocolate onto Gabriella, though she fought against him, causing it to splatter over both of them. "No, Troy, _ah––!" _Suddenly her foot slipped on the liquid chocolate, causing both her and Troy to stumble slowly to the kitchen floor. Before even hitting the ground, Gabriella was giggling again.

"What did you do that for?" She was breathless, with strands of hair stuck to the side of her face as she laughed heavily.

Troy sucked his chocolate covered thumb into his mouth with a peaceful expression. "It's all part of my cunning plan."

Gabriella's laughter dropped, her hand reaching up to steal some chocolate from his skin as she sobered with a thoughtful expression. "Oh?"

"Well, if I'm honest, I did have other motives to getting you covered in chocolate other than for humour..." he informed with feigned innocence, running a finger down her brown, sticky cheek.

Gabriella felt her stomach flip deliciously as she watched him shyly but intently from under her lashes, feeling his strong arm curled around her back to keep her from the hard floor. She could predict where this was going. "Other motives like what?" she joked, putting on a false cheery voice. "_Oh gee, I'm so sticky. Now I'm gonna have to take off my shirt."_

Troy let his face lower to hers, his soft whisper in her era, as his crooked grin lifted into a grin. "Well, you see, you _could_... But first I want to _taste _you. Chocolate and _Gab-ri-el-la." _Troy staccato husk made her lose all the breath in her lungs, and as he lips touched her skin, she forgot how to breath again.

He sucked the chocolate from her cheek in a own mouth kiss, moving his lips then down her throat and along her sternum. Her breathing became loud in her own ears, as she sunk her fingers into his hair, scraping her nails lightly up his back over his t-shirt. Gabriella felt his strong mouth consuming the chocolate from her skin, sending delightful sparks into the air and up her limbs, straight to the pit of her stomach. She let out a breath, only for a very much foreign sound to escape along with it, that could only be described as a moan.

_"Troy," _she groaned, feeling his leg between both of hers as they lay entwined on the warm floor. She gripped his locks harder, guiding his mouth to her own. The moment their lips met, it felt as though a surge of fire had been ignited within Gabriella's very being, as she felt her body involuntarily arch against his, creating delicious friction between the denim-clad throbbing junction between her legs and the denim of his thigh. Gabriella felt his tongue move into her mouth through their open mouth kiss, and she rushed to meet him with her own, a battle of dominance beginning to demonstrate the fire in their veins. She felt Troy hum appreciatively into the kiss, his strong hands gripping her waist.

"_God, Gabriella," _her groaned as she continued to rub herself against his jeaned thigh as her mouth ravaged his. He pulled away, meeting her gaze, her clouded brown eyes hooded with desire.

"Oh, Troy," she sighed as he nipped her neck, his fingers running up and down her ribcage. As his hand moved to the the hem of her shirt, she struggled as her body and her brain fought for the correct response to this situation.

"No more hickies," she breathed humourously, feeling him grin against her neck. "I already have enough from last time."  
>"We'll see about that," he replied, greedily kissing the opposite side of her neck before claiming her mouth again. His hands dripped lower than her waist, subtly moving to feel her shapely behind from over her jeans. He groaned at the feel of it, not quite sure how he had refrain from touching it for so long now.<p>

"What?" she questioned as they broke to breathe, but only for a second before their mouths met again. Her hand cupped his neck to keep him close, revved by the feeling of his strong hands on her butt, pulling her hips closer.

"These jeans," he groaned. "The only thing more sexy than you in them," he paused to kiss her again, barely pulling away by a millimeter. "would be you without them."

He pressed herself further into him, the friction of her own jeans on her buzzing skin almost too much. She wanted his hands everywhere. If she let him do this now, here, they could end up going way too far for a kitchen floor... But did she care?

"Troy..." she breathed, struggling for oxygen. "We're in your mom's kitchen..."

He kissed her again with such power she involuntarily ground herself into his body again. "Troy," she prompted again.

He groaned, resting his face against her sternum, trying desperately to level his breathing. "Ouch," he croaked at the straining problem that had grown in his jeans. "Oh, jeez!" he breathed in a husk of wonder.

Gabriella tried to catch her breath, staring at the ceiling as she let out a single, breathless laugh. "My sentiments exactly..."

"I think I'm going to need a minute or two," he winced as he tried to help her stand with his extremely uncomfortable hard on.

"We should clean up... I can give you a minute..." she supplied shyly at him, feeling guilty for putting him in this position, though mostly in disbelief at the idea he could get to be this way, because of _her. _

"Nah," he breathed, bracing against the counter with both hands, his eyes closed. "Cleaning up should do the trick."

As she searched for a cloth to wet, she looked back to him apologetically. "Sorry, Troy. I didn't mean––"

Troy let out a laugh, interrupting her. "You're _honestly_ apologising for turning me on?" He began laughing again, wiping chocolate from his hands hopelessly. "There's no stopping your niceness is there?"

She breathed in but couldn't see to get enough air, blushing again. "I just––"

He stepped toward her, his hands found her face to make her look him in the eye. "Don't," he asserted with a soft smile, amused by her innocence. "You worry too much. I'm fine, and that was delightful."

"Okay," she conceded softly, letting his lips touch hers in a soft, chaste kiss. Tasting lovely chocolatey goodness on his lips, she giggled. "_Mm. _Troy and chocolate. I'm beginning to agree with their alternate motives. Maybe we could carry this on later, when we're _not _on the kitchen floor..."

Troy just grinned even wider, tossing a cloth as her cheekily.

**༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺**

"_Mm!_ _Oh...my...god, Gabriella!_" Troy mumbled through his mouthful, his eyes rolling and temporarily closing as he let the rich, sweet taste of Oreo chocolate truffles filling his senses. He was pretty sure he had never tasted anything as beautiful in his life. Delicious wasn't even the word. "This is the best thing I ever tasted in my whole fucking life."

Gabriella grinned, thrilled that he liked them as she swallowed hers. "Thanks. I have such a fat girl inside of me and it's all because of her I make these just to eat them. You're lucky I'm sharing them."

Troy looked sideways at her where they had settled on the couch, both changed and chocolate free, with a random _'F.r.i.e.n.d.s' _episode playing in the background. "I am lucky, that's for sure." He leant sideways almost to her era, grinning like he knew a big secret. "You know," he began, feigning mischief. "I got to touch Gabriella Montez's butt," he murmured with wide eyes as though it was some big prize. Gabriella burst into giggles at his silliness, and he followed, greedily finishing his truffle in double quick time.

"And we all know how rare an occurrence that is," she joked back as she swallowed, running a hand through her hair to reposition her parting to the left rather than the centre, where it fell naturally. Troy watched her, feeling desperate to kiss her again.

"I'd love to make it less of one." The question escaped before he could stop it. It had meant to simply be a silent, unsaid question, but Troy gulped as he heard the words pass his lips.

To his surprise and delight, he watched her pupils dilate as she finished sucking on a chocolate-covered fingertip and leant into him slowly. "Me too," she whispered, and though Troy could spy a new sense of growing confidence there, he could also see the same old recurring Montez fear, so he kissed her swiftly, once on the mouth.

"It's alright, you know," he reassured softly, a palm at her neck. "We don't have to do anything you don't want. At all. There's no rush. Promise."

When she didn't reply, Troy began to get a little nervous. What was she thinking?

"Thanks," she replied finally, her voice small and distant, as though deep in thought. Suddenly she let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl or frustration, before gripping her hands over his where they held her face. "But I want to! I want to! I wish I could turn off the fear. Why can't I just turn it off? Why can't I just be life you? Like everyone else? I don't want to be scared, because it's you, Troy... It's just so damn frustrating."

"It's alright to be afraid," he argued softly, smiling to try to get her to smile, but her thoughtful frown remained.

"This coming from the guy who's afraid of nothing," she fought back stubbornly, rolling her chocolate eyes to the ceiling.

Troy frowned in return. "Hey now, that's not true. I get afraid of things too."

Gabriela scoffed, dropping her hands to his knees beside her. "Oh yeah?" she conceded disbelievingly. "Like what?"

He watched her not look at him, her expression one of such stubbornness, like she had already made up her mind about him; that he'd never understand. He didn't like that. "Like the fact I have to go to college this fall and I have no idea where I'm going because all I can hear is my dad raving on about U of A and basketball scholarships. Like the fact I have my friends on my back that I don't spend enough time practicing with them so they keep putting it on me that we might lose the championships coming up..." He frowned and dropped his hands on top of hers in his lap. "Like the fact I'm afraid of ruining everything I love about you; messing with your life and hurting you, and then––"

Gabriella's head snapped to meet his. _"––What?" _For a moment or two she was at a loss for a single word. "Why would you say that?"

"Because..." he conceded quickly, his eyes just as stubborn as hers suddenly. "Gabriella, whenever I think of you, one word comes to my mind, and that's innocent. You're beautiful. You're beautiful, innocent, kind, loving. _Pure. _Heck, it's so damn refreshing I get kicks just sitting next to you. And I know even by now that I bring out the worst in you, just as you bring out the best in me, but I don't want to ruin your life experiences, and I feel like I am. I stole your first kiss from you in my treehouse, I got you stinking drunk, I robbed you of your first second base _on my sofa bed_, and I just...I don't want you to regret this period of your life all because of the selfish moves I have made. I am far from pure, and in many ways were are opposites, and I know that... You just deserve so much more...so much better... and soon we'll be going off to college and..."

He trailed off as Gabriella pulling his limp hands into her own, squeezing them to bring him back to her, meeting his gaze. She smiled more confidently at him. "Troy, considering you just told me a while ago I worry too much, that sounded like an awful lot of worrying to me." He went to speak, but she stopped him. "Now, I just have one thing to say. While you were pointing all this out I realised something. I want to thank you. I want to thank you for all that stuff. Until a few months ago I was a sad, lonely seventeen year old girl with no social male interaction other than those in her math classes, with no idea what being kissed felt like, much less second base. Yeah, I was intelligent and on top of my grades but I was bored, and kind of pathetic." She grinned with new found liberation as he began to peak at her through his lashes. "But since I met you, I've had a job. I've dealt with customers. I had a first kiss in a treehouse. I met new friends, I lost my inhibitions, I got to go to one of the craziest parties. I got pictures taken of me in my underwear, I snuck a guy into my bedroom with my mom downstairs and _made out with him_. I got to some sort of strange version of second base in your sofa bed, I made out on your kitchen floor after a chocolate fight..." she shook her head slightly with a look of wonder as realisation hit her of how he had changed her for the better. "I went _indoor skydiving..." _she breathed in disbelief, suddenly feeling emotional."_Me! Indoor skydiving!" _She leant forward towards his face, which was now fully facing her and paying attention, his face blank but she could almost hear his brain churning the information behind those vibrant blue eyes. "Before you, I was nothing," she whispered, kissing his cheek slowly, and she smiled as she felt him lean into her touch. In the dim light of the Bolton living room, she could make out the contours of his face in the orange and red hue of the room, his blue eyes so expressive, yet giving nothing away._"When I used to look above, / All I saw was sky; / And every song that I would sing, / I sung unknowing why. / All I felt and all I thought, / Was only just because; / Never was it ever you, / Until it was all there was." _

Troy felt something almost combust in his chest as she whispered such soft, increasingly intelligent words to him, and so, in no rush this time, softly met her lips with feelings of pure adoration for this moment. _What was she doing to him?_ he wondered, because whatever it was, he was praying she'd never stop. "What was that?" he questioned breathlessly as they curled further into one another on the soft couch made for two. She let a hand wonder through his hair, leisurely letting her nails touch his scalp.

"A poem from one of my favourite poets, Lang Leav, called 'Never Before Was You.' She has a blog and, well, everything she writes seems to fit somewhere into my life like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, but never quite like this..."

He swallowed as closed his eyes lazily at the soft touch of her fingers in his hair. "Tell me another," he whispered as her lips touched his cheekbone, her movements slow and delicate.

_"You have said, / All the things, / I need to hear, / Before I knew, / I needed to hear them. / To be unafraid, / Of all the things, / I used to fear / Before I knew, / I needed to fear them." _Gabriella felt his sigh almost euphorically as she continued to run her hand through his hair and curl her face into the hollow of his collarbone, feeling his hands trail up and down her back with such gentle ease. "That one's called 'A Thank You Note.' I think it fits this situation pretty well too, don't you?" she asked softly, and Troy, with a thoughtful nod, fought the urge to kiss her again, because it would mean having to look away from that smile and quieten that soft, intelligent whisper that seemed to have turned his entire body to molten liquid. The room was warm, her body was close, and as he leant down to kiss her, she met him halfway, their kiss almost hesitant, trying to get a sense of direction.

"I don't even know where you end and where I begin," Troy sighed as they parted for a moment. "I never knew it could be like this..." he stopped himself short, his lips meeting hers, holding her hands in his own before interlocking all twenty of their fingers and thumbs.

"Oh, Troy," came that sound again from her mouth, however this time it was lighter, breathier, with even more urgency than before. Her heart felt so full she was sure it might burst.

Their faces separated, and as their eyes locked, Troy recognised a new spark in her eye that he had never seen there before. Faith. . _Trust_.

_ "Touch me, Troy," _she whispered, granting him the access he had been terrified in his mind of taking. He didn't want to take anything from hershe may regret. She deserved more than a life of regret. So much more. However, his trepidation left him with her soft plea, and knowing she had never asked this of anyone before, he felt a sense of pride and duty fill him. She wanted this._ He _wantedthis_. He could do this. _

With this acceptance came a groan from Troy Bolton's chest that soon morphed from one of relief to one of arousal. Gabriella grasped his neck, pulling her mouth, warm, soft and hungry, to his own, feeling her tongue dip into his mouth and touch him. Soon enough his hands had become equally fueled with hunger as his mouth, wanting to feel her flesh beneath them; his Coldplay t-shirt the first to go, as her delicate, yet slightly callous, hands explored the lines and contours of his tanned, firm and chiseled abdominal and pectoral muscles. The way her brown eyes watched him watch her making his breathe deeper for oxygen. She closed them with a feeling of pure passion as the steel-like structure of his chest moved under her hands, like tectonic plates of the earth, finally moving into place. Her world shifting to never go back.

Troy lifted his hands to her hair as she straddled his body, the position taking a minute or two to get into due to her tight and inflexible muscles and joints, causing them both a giggle which was much needed to remind them there was no need for this to be too serious. His fingers plunged into her curls as he drew her face down to his, unmoving for a moment, noses only just in contact. He silently willed her to let him touch her as she had granted. He knew in that moment her mind's course of action; she would be debating whether or not to pull away, to ramp up the shields and block him out again for fear of ridicule, but, to his surprise, with a shaky breath, she nodded after only a moment. After a pause of marveling at her trust in him, his fingers found the destination of her tank top, pulling in over her head before his eyes settled on her face. He kissed her hard, not wanting to ogle at her and make her uncomfortable, but as the kiss deepened further, it began to speed up. Both pairs of hands pushed through hair and grasped down firm, both voices sighing into moans, both body temperatures rising. Suddenly all actions felt more desperate as let his hand slip down her back until he was met by the obstruction of her bra, flicking the clasp own with a thumb and pointer finger.

Gabriella gulped for air as she let it fall away from her body, which was so warm, she observed as she glanced down, that her nipples had swelled instead of puckering, even after such stimulating activity. Troy's gaze as he broke away followed hers southwards, his gaze raking slowly over the beautifully nature-sculpted mounds of flesh that hung there. Her chest rose and fell sharp as his own did the same, their bodies so close that her tantilising pink nipples almost touched the skin of his chest. He felt himself harden in his sweatpants almost to the point of no return. She was perfectly sized, perfecting formed... and she was perfectly _imperfect. _To top it off, she had her T pendant laying just between them, making his heart almost burst. "How are you real?" he whispered as he kissed her again, grasping her lower back to pull her flush against him for a moment, skin to skin, chest to chest, pouring everything into the kiss. "I have never seen anyone so... _God_, you're magnificent.'

Gabriella whimpered in response, fingers deep in Troy's hair as his hands trailed around her ribcage and gently cupped a breast in each hand. With this action she felt her head roll back as her body arched into into him, a groan as soft as a summer breeze leaving her mouth, almost like a whimper or a cry. She felt his lips kiss her neck as he kneaded her, and she felt her hyper-sensitive nipples begin to harden almost painfully against his hot skin. She watched his lips moved further south until they latched over one nipple while teasing the other, and the very sight of him this way, even though he had been here once before, it had been dark and he had been shielded from view by the shirt she had worn. Now, watching him pleasure her skin almost like worship, she felt almost like a woman for the first time.

"Oh god," she whimpered as he switched, feeling him grin against her. She ground against him under her, feeling his erection through his sweatpants, causing him to wince, the deep pleasure of friction so intense it almost bordered on pain. Suddenly, the wildfire exploded again, and Troy easily and nimbly flipped their bodies on the couch, his now over hers. Kissing her once, he trailed a hand down her front, marveling in the way goosebumps followed.

"How's the hip?" he enquired breathlessly, remembering how the particular position and movement of straddling could strain her muscles and make them cramp up.

"Fine," she huffed, and in any other situation, she be touched, but by now, she was simply desperate for some sort of release. "_Troy_," she prompted desperately, feeling her moist pajama shorts rub her most intimate place deliciously with every movement. "I'm not ready to go all the way, but..." she husked, their eyes met after a moment. She found it hard to string the words together due to lack of oxygen. She couldn't get enough through her nose and mouth, plus she was also she was trying, at least just a little, to hold in her fleshier stomach so that it was flatter, because, compared to his, it was positively pudgy.

Troy's lips curled into a kind smile as he dropped tiny kissed up from one breast, up her throat to her lips. "I know, but that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun, huh?" His voice was rough from not speaking, and thick with arousal. She let her eyes roll back to a close with a breathless moan of agreement, curling her nails gently into the skin of his biceps.

"_Please_," was her only plea, again grinding her hips into him. He felt the wet material of her shorts against his abdomen, and he bit back a powerful groan of his own, instead letting it leak through his teeth. With one final look up into her eyes for confirmation, which he found instantly, he slipped a slow, teasing hand down her soft, pleasantly fleshy stomach and into her pajama shorts, pausing for a moment to simply cup her there. Gabriella swallowed, suddenly feeling self-conscious about her pubic hair, as it had crossed her mind that perhaps he was used to girls who shaved...or something. But she soon forgot her worries, as the heat of her body radiated into his hand, it only took a moment before he stretched out a finger to tease her entrance. She moaned, releasing yet another plea mixed in with his name, and who was he to deny her? He complied, slipping an index finger inside her and left a thumb come to rest on her clitoris. She shifted, desperately trying to create some friction, but he stilled her, kissing her with gentle ease.

"Troy, _please," _she whispered, her eyes shut tight. "Please, I need more. Please, I need you."

"And you will have me, baby," he whispered as he pulled her shorts down her legs to gain better access, feeling her hand rub suggestively against his erection through his sweats.

"Mmf," he growled lowly. "No, baby, you first. Otherwise I'll explode."

She raised her eyebrows at him, taking her lower lip between her teeth. "But... I want you to explode," she whispered, and with her words alone, he almost did.

With a groan, he slipped two fingers inside her again, feeling the warmth and extensive wetness there, watching her face change from one of power to one of pleasure and almost...relief. He felt her front vaginal wall with his fingers, coaxing her into rising higher and higher.

"_Fuck, baby," _he hissed in her ear as he continued to enter and withdraw his fingers from inside here at a steady pace. "You're so _wet," _he groaned as he easily added a third finger, watching her face scrunch with pleasure and pants escape her mouth.

"All for you," she whimpered, digging her nails into his shoulders, and arching back into his touch. "Oh, _Troy_. Only you," she whispered as he watched her beginning to find her rhythm, her hips bucking in time with his hand. "Faster," she moaned as he kissed her neck. "Please, please, just give it to me."

Troy didn't have to be told twice. Holding down her upper body at the waist with his left hand, Troy straighten his three fingers and began a quick onslaught on her warm intimacy, the tips of his fingers hitting that spot that made her gasp for breath that wouldn't come. The sound of Gabriella's juices filled the room as he pushed her further and further towards the edge, her hands clutching the cushion beneath them.

"Oh, fuck, yes... Faster, please," she moaned, the volume of her voice louder than any words had spoken for quite while. Soon her words were non-existent, simple moaning sounds taking their place. Curling his fingers in a beckoning motion, he watch Gabriella's mouth drop open, breathless moans and pants leaving her repeatedly. He kissed her face as he increased the speed of his fingers, feeling the sponge texture of her G-spot at his the tips of his fingers. Just when he felt he could not view anything more arousing, he watched her own hand dip down between them to rub the bundle of nerves there furiously. Her breath became shaky as searched for release, his movements picking up speed. "_Fuck, fuck, Troy, oh please..." _

He leant his face down to hears so they were nose to nose, temporarily slowing his movements. "What is it?" he husked, dropping kisses along her jaw. "Tell me what do you want, baby..."

She arched right against him, her lower back coming right off the bed bringing her body to meet him. "More," she whimpered in plea, and a moment later he skimmed down her body with a wicked grin, settling his face between her thighs. For a short moment, she felt herself flush bashfully, however, the moment she felt him kiss there, _there, _she knew there was no coming down from this without the climb. She felt him hot mouth around his clitoris as he fingers stretched her against, curling, hitting her right on that spot...

"_Yess," _she hissed through her teeth as he settled there, knowing this exactly what she needed. "_Ahh!" _she squeaked helplessly, almost jackknifing off the bed is it hadn't been for Troy's strange left hand holding her down. "Yes, _yes, ah, fuck, Troy," _as garble or words escape her as he began to climb, hearing nothing but his fingers sharply pleasuring her and soaking her more in own juices. The movements became so strong so gripped Troy's hair what she was sure must be painfully, gasping for air as he pushed her higher, his strong tongue showing no mercy in flicking her bundle of nerves to surrender. She threw her head back groaning desperately. _Stop...Don't stop.. More. Faster. _Yes.

He couldn't believe the taste of her, the sweet, salted blend of her on his tongue, the quiver of her muscles moved for him inside the deepest and darkest part of her. The way she pulled his hair and moaned his name made him even more dedicated to his task, humming appreciatively against her sensitive clitoris. As he sucked harder, pushing his fingers deeper, Gabriella suddenly felt it building, the unmistakable, deep, innate urge to curl, to recoil every muscle, as though to spring into action for some momentous act. She felt her whole body shake as Troy's hand kept her to the bed, her body arched almost completely off of it as Troy's long fingers were all the way inside her as he sucked endlessly on her most sensitive area. She knew it was coming, and that it was going to hit like a freight train.

"Troy...ahh," she whimpered, her eyes forced closed. "P-please, don't stop... I'i-I'm g'gonna... _I'm gonna...!_––" Her speech is stopped sort as Troy's movements become at an impossible speed, her body bowing to him as she felt that blissful moment that the entire world talks about. Where your lover pushes you to the edge, and the moment your foot leaves the cliff, it's like the skydiving on their date, like the freefall. The most blissful and serene feeling in the entire world. But then once you've experienced the freefall, next comes the delicious G-force that makes you almost want to stop, but it feels so good you could never. Suddenly, after a moment of soaring, it hits.

"Ahh, Troy!" she called throatily in an almost silent scream, her body feeling like was being torn apart at the seems at the intense pleasure pain rips through every nerve, making her toes curl and cramp, her back arch, hips buck continuously and her limbs twitch in an uncontrollable fit. All concept of what has left her mouth is lost. as her legs tighten impossibly around Troy, as he watches from under his lashes. _"Yes, yes, yes!" _Groaning when the main wave of pleasure finally begins to subside, she tries desperately to catch her breath, but Troy is still..._down there.  
>"Troy," <em>she whispers between whimpers, as the tremors of her orgasm continue to shake her, causing him to crawl up and kiss her hesitantly. She could taste herself there, something that caused her to moan again. "Oh, Troy,"

He pulled away to caress her face, only to find a tear or two lingering on her cheeks. He frowned instantly. What had he done?

"Oh, god, Gabriella, I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" He wiped the tears away quickly as she continued to tremble.

"No!" she giggled slightly. "If you think _that _is hurting me, then I think you need to start paying attention more in Biology... No, I'm just overwhelmed... That was intense." Troy grinned at her, the banter calming him back into comfort. God, she was amazing. "I'm fine," she husked. "I'm more than fucking fine. I'm..."

Lost for words she kissed him hard, almost falling apart again as she watch him suck his fingers clean, the ones that had been inside _her. _

_ "Gabriella," _he urged, holding her face so he could look into her eyes. "You are the most beautiful girl I have ever known," he whispered, pulling her long hair from her face, loving how it was so long it ticked her breasts and his chest too, feeling the T pendant pressed between their bodies. "I hope you know that."

Gabriella swallowed a lump that began forming in her throat, giving him a weak smile. "And you, Troy Bolton, are the single sexiest man I have ever met, with a beautiful kind heart and amazing brains... You're everything I've ever wanted." She suddenly grinned wickedly as he lay above her, their chests pressed together, faces almost touching. "Plus, you give one hell of an orgasm." She felt their chests rumble with his laughter. "Best I've ever had."

Troy stilled in his tracks after these words, confused, but hiding it with a curious smirk. "But I thought you had never done anything with a person before?"

Gabriella simply raised her eyebrows at him, enjoying his reaction._ "I haven't." _

Suddenly, his mind flashed back to how she had slipped her own hand down to add to the pleasure he had been giving her, and he strung two and two together. _Self-induced orgasm. _The very idea of her taking part in such a thing making his entire body of blood rage south, his hard on almost at the brink. He groaned loudly, his face twisting with the pleasure of the idea as she smiled at her, in awe. "That is the single, most sexiest thing..." he husked against her neck.

"If you think hearing about it is, you should see it," she smirked, humourously, enjoying how she was arousing him.

He groaned again, holding her chin between thumb and forefinger, pleading. "Don't tempt me. I swear to god––"

"––What?" she carried on, trying to appear nonchalant to his arousal. "You thought it was just guys who liked to masturbate? How every sexist of you."

Hearing her say the word, his face scrunched into a frown as he tried to resist his body that was suddenly screaming with desire, wanting to ravage her. He let out a growl, only for it to intensify as she flipped them over, her hand wondering south, down his chest to the barrier of his sweatpants.

"Gabi..." he began breathlessly. "You don't have to––"

She silenced him with a soft kiss. "Yes, I do, and I want to."

And just like that he watched in awe as she began to kiss down his chest and abs, halting for a moment at his pants. She silently gave herself a pep talk. _It's just a penis, _she encouraged herself. _Just a penis.  
><em>But the worried side of her innocent self was having none of it.

_It's a penis, something you've never even seen, never mind pleasured, before. Plus, it's Troy Bolton's penis! Troy Bolton!_

She closed her eyes tight to stop the deliberation, because really, there was none.  
>She followed his delicious happy trail to the promise land, something she had fantasised about for too long now. Slowly, she pushed down the fabric with two hands, her breasts hanging below her as she straddled his legs, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of him. He was hard almost to the point of it looking painful, with engorged veins and moisture gathering at the tip, and, as Gabriella swallowed hard, she noted he was also rather large. She looked up into his face as she took him in her hand, watching at it was his turn to hiss and let his eyes roll back. He was warm, and firm, and all man, and suddenly she felt very powerful as she began to pump him like she'd read and heard about.<p>

"Mm, _fuck," _Troy cursed through the pleasure, his hands gripping the couch cushions.

She decided after a moment she wanted to taste him, dipping her hair and taking his tip into her mouth. She felt Troy almost jump out his skin, his breath catching in his throat, only to be follow a moment later by a primal growl of arousal. "_Fuck, _Gabriella... _Baby..."_

She continued to stroke him, taking more and more of him into her mouth at the same time. He tasted salty, and his was throbbing and warm, and she realised how alive she felt in that moment, sheathing her teeth and sucking harder. She didn't attempt to take all of him, or choke herself to try to please him, and that, in some way, pleased him more. She was true to herself and her innocence, even when it came to his pleasure. How did he get so lucky?

He felt himself building impossibly high as she moaned with her mouth around him, curse words slipping from his mouth continuously, mixing with her name.

"_Gab––" _he groaned, trying to string words together. "I'm gonna cum," he warned her in a growling husk. "P-pull away if you don't want..." He couldn't finish, but as her nailed softly scraped down his thigh, he knew she had heard. Her actions increased tempo, and Troy felt his whole body coil as his hand cupped her head, letting out grunts of satisfaction as pulled her mouth away and pumped him hard until he reached his peak, his seed spilling onto his abdomen. Desperately trying to catch his breath, Troy watched her watch him, feeling completely sated and at peace. "Wow," he whispered as she twirled her hair between her fingers, distracted by the way she dusted a piece of fluff of her left breast. Suddenly, he was hit with the reality of the fact he and Gabriella Montez were naked in his living room, the very idea of it making him laugh out loud.

"What?" she questioned shyly, but he simply carressed her thigh from where he lay. "I'm just so happy," he sighed, watching her expression begin to mirror his own.

"I'll go get a tissue for you," she murmured, stepping anything but elegantly from the sofa and kissing him before self-consciously walking past, her legs inward at the knee, her butt sticking out, walking on her toes. Watching her walk without clothes on was a new level of unknown for her, because he could see..._everything_.

Once in the kitchen, she grabbed some tissue and paused for a moment with a grin plastered on her face. Did that really just happen?

Walking back into the living room, trying to walk with her feet at straight and flat as possible, she passed him the tissue to wipe himself of his semen, loving how she watched his every movement with hunger. After he had finished, he looked up to find her staring at him, only for her to lean into his and take his face in her hands. "Thank you," she whispered earnestly, a hand straying into his hair. "Now I don't feel alone anymore. You're amazing. Thank you."

He frowned slightly, kissing her back with gentle force, one hand cradling her back and the other cupping her neck, sighing at the feeling of her breasts, soft and warm, pressed against his chest. "You were never alone," he replied, his gaze never leaving hers. "And you never will be." Their lips met again in a slow kiss that seemed to go on for a long time. Neither wanting to pull away. "_Mm," _Troy sighed as they finally broke apart, resting his lips against her cheek. "You're so soft." His fingers softly traced the skin of the underside of her breasts, then the skin of her swollen nipples, both velvet-like in texture.

"And you're _not_," she joked quietly, causing them both to grin against each others cheeks, sleepily resting against one another.

There was content quiet for a while long until Gabriella's voice sounded. "I'm hungry," she piped up suddenly, causing Troy to laugh so hard his belly hurt.

"What would you like?" he asked, stroking her face adoringly.

"There's still some truffles and spicy popcorn left," she grinned like a small child, standing quickly to grab his abandoned Coldplay t-shirt from the floor and pulling it on. He wanted her interned knees meet as she bent down, her round behind curved outward much further than any other girl he had ever seen, the small of her back being larger due to her posture, therefore accentuating the beautiful behind before him. He watched her stretch to pull on his shirt, and his felt himself grinning without a word to say.

"Are you coming?" she questioned, nearly out the room. "Because otherwise I'll eat everything."

"No you won't!" he protested, quickly yanking on his dirty sweatpants. "I want a truffle!" he called as he ran clumsily into the kitchen.

"I want never gets!" she sniped with a stuck out tongue.

He laughed, thinking of their actions only minutes before. "Oh yes, it fucking does!"


	24. Carried Away

A/N: _Hey y'all–– Yeah, I know it's been ages and I'm sorry, but I had exams before the summer holidays (in which it turns out I got 2As and 2Bs YAY!) and then I had writers block out how to get this bit out, because it has some important little stuff in it :) PLEASE REVIEW SO I CAN KNOW WHAT YOU THINK, or, leave me a message on my blog, .com _

_LOVE & HUGS  
>x x STARSWalkBACKWARD x x<em>

* * *

><p><strong><span>Carried Away<span>**

"I can't believe this night." Gabriella sigh filled his ears, her head resting against his bare collarbone where she sat in her lap, one arm circled around her folded knees holding her in place at the thigh, the other curled around her mid back, holding her body to his. They were lying on his bed, not even speaking. Simply enjoying the silence that stretched out before them, that was simply interrupted by the soft reassurance of two chests rising and falling, and two hearts beating leisurely.

"Me either," he murmured as he dropped his lips to the crown of her head, leaving a kiss there before he realised he had done so. She still had his shirt on, along with some fresh underwear, and he had changed into clean bottoms. Gabriella felt her eye-lids becoming heavy, yet they still talked in husked whispers, exchanging soft kisses in the dark of his bedroom.

"Gabi," Troy began once they had fallen still and quiet again. "What happened to your dad?"

Gabriella swallowed, loving the feeling of his warm skin against the side of her face. She wasn't sure she wanted to talk about this, but she knew that if anyone would be the one to talk to, it would be him. "Nothing. He just doesn't live with us anymore. He travels for his job, whatever it is he does. He left my mom a few years ago."

Troy frowned, out of sympathy, but also surprise that her tone was not sad, but rather disconnected.

"That sucks," he said after a moment, holding her tighter. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

"What happened?" he enquired gently.

"Nothing I hadn't known about for much longer." She shrugged. "He was always so good at understanding me, but it turned out he was a serial adulterer and not very good with communication, which, I'm not sure why, never really surprised me... Their marriage was probably broken for a lot longer than I realised, but it took them until a few years ago to finally break up."

"Do you...miss him?" His question was disjointed as he was suddenly conscious of how easily this conversation topic could hit a nerve.

"Yeah... My mum doesn't really get me. I'm much more like my dad than I could ever be like her. I don't know, it's just so difficult because whenever anyone brings him up, my mom and my grandma Montez can never hold their tongues with their goddamn insults about him..."

She went on to tell him about how life in her household had been difficult since her father had left, as he was obsessed with keeping money to himself and so had attempted even when going to court to not give Maria Montez any maintenance money to help with Gabriella upkeep, or to not pay back Maria's mother, Gabriella grandmother, the money he had once borrowed, hence the two women's extreme dislike for him now.

"That must have been rough for you. I can't imagine..."

"It was, but I dealt with it..." She was quiet for a minute. "You're lucky. You have such lovely parents. People who don't cheat and lie and manipulate each other... My only hope is one day I'll have that...though I know the statistics are against me...I was beginning to think it didn't exist, so it's nice to see people like your parents still exist..."

Troy lowered his head in order to meet her gaze, a small frown still dominate between his brows. She looked into his eyes, the intense colour that they were, and tried quickly to swallow the aching lump of emotion in her throat. Her voice sounded tight, but she was hoping he hadn't noticed. "I just don't want to end up like my parents did."

Troy could see the sheen of unshed tears in her expressive maroon chocolate eyes. Drawing her firm against his chest, taking her chin between his finger and thumb, hoping to portray understanding, however he was pretty sure she was much more a deep thinker than he could ever be, though perhaps just as emotional.

"I don't think for a minute you will, because any man would have to be _insane _and a right bastard to treat you like that, Gabriella."

"That's just your opinion," she said shyly, blushing at his compliment, looking down away from his eyes. "Besides, all the bastards don't look like bastards in the beginning. That's part of the problem."

"Well, I can see your point there... I mean, all I'm saying is, I know I would never..." He stopped himself. Where the hell had that come from? It was far too early to frighten her away with such ridiculous daydreams of marriage. Besides, since when did he think of marriage, and since when did it sound _appealing?_

"You wouldn't say that if you really knew how loud and talkative I can be. I've been told I'm a stuck-up pain in the ass," she said with a smile.

"I've been told I'm a brooding, stubborn pain in the ass, so perhaps you're not the only one... You just need to give yourself a chance, and then the rest will follow."

"How did you get so good at advise?" she asked with a smile, the tears disappearing as she curled into his shoulder.

"Being stuck in basketball locker rooms with a ton of guys gives you a lot of time to think."

Gabriella giggled girlishly, causing Troy's heart to leap at the innocence of the sound. "Yes, I can imagine."

"I love that sound," he sighed, burying his face into her hair and pulling her over so they they rolled playfully across the bed, causing her to giggle more. He groaned happily, kissing any inch of her skin he could reach with a smile on his face.

"Troy," she giggled. "Stop. You're going to get carried away, and I'm tired..." she whined, playfully.

"Mmm, baby, I'm always carried away when I'm with you," he husked in a whisper, kissing down her shoulder, pulling the t-shirt to the side to access more skin.

Gabriella giggled some more, weakly attempting to push him off.

"Hey," she scolded playfully, grasping his bangs. "It's my turn to kiss _you." _

"Oh, lucky me," he sighed, folding his arms behind his head, his biceps bulging deliciously as he smiled at her. Wiggling her eyebrows after she pushed his shoulders to the bed, suddenly shaky with excitement at the idea of having the freedom to touch him. She swallowed as he let her hands wonder down his sternum, pectorals and abs, that instantly tensed under her hands. She looked down at him with a wide-eyed expression at stemmed from the awe of how such a physique can be real in a mere eighteen year old. The innocence of the look made Troy want to combust, so for a moment he closed his eyes.

She felt the soft trail of hair leading down under his bottoms and licked her lips, already wanting him again, though knowing she was far too tired for that. Instead, she dipped her head and dropped gentle, open mouth kisses slowly down the route her hands had taken, starting as his delicate collarbones, trailing down his masculine form. Gabriella peeked up through her lashes to catch his expression, only to see one of serenity, a ghost of a smile on his lips. She felt the heat of his skin under her lips, and she couldn't help but suck the skin into her mouth and gently grazing her teeth along it, determined to leave a mark or two above his heart and down those ridiculously refined abs.

"Gabi," he sighed, losing his hands in her tangled hair. "Get up here," he husked, guiding her face to his own. Their lips met softly and slowly, with no sense of hurry in the increasing light of the early morning.

"My god, you're so heavenly," he husked, the pad of his thumb stoking her cheek back and forth, before dropping his head to her throat and kissing her lifelines; first her throat pulse point, next both insides of her wrists, and her sternum where her heart lay thudding beneath.

She swooned breathlessly, her fingers curling through his hair. "Such a romantic," she whispered teasingly with a content smile, causing him to smile his crooked smile and blush at the same time. "Don't worry––I won't tell anyone."

Nose to nose, Troy pushed tendrils of hair away, smiling contently at the feeling of her warm face milimetres from his own. "You can tell who you like," he said in a louder husked voice. She couldn't believe how at peace it made her feel; the baritone tenor sound waves waking something deep within her chest she had decided long ago didn't exist. She had such an urge to let three little words escape from the back of her throat, but she swallowed the down. They barely knew each other.

She frowned, displaying her doubt. "You can't mean that. What are the basketball team going to say?"

Troy's lips met her forehead. "I don't give a fuck, quite frankly. I'm done living for them."

"But you need to keep them content, Troy. The championship––"

"––should not be affected just because I have a found a girl I want to be with. They should know that I'll give a hundred and ten per cent of my guts into that game no matter what. My commitment to them is nothing to do with my new commitment to you. If anything, you're only going to boost my game." His limbs curled around her own awkward ones as he laid them both down. "It'd be nice to have you there."

"I'd love to be there, though I may not know exactly what is going on," she giggled, causing him to grin.

"Hey––I thought you were a Lakers fan?"

"I am, but that doesn't mean I understand the logistics..." She grinned wolfishly. "I just have a thing for Lebron..."

Troy sensed her teasing tone, so let out a playful growl and let his fingers tickle her sides mercilessly. She howled with full-blown laughter as he pinned her into the mattress.

"_No! T-Troy, stop! _I'm t-t-ticklish-h! Please! _P-please!_"

Her ribbed ached painfully as she couldn't reign in her laughter or put a stop to his strong fingers.

"So, you have a thing for Lebron, huh?"

"Yes! He's the sexiest basketball player ever!" she spluttered, not backing down, however his onslaught only got worse, and she became completely breathless.

"Would you like to amend that statement?" he husked his her ear.

"No!" she declined stubbornly, suddenly breathless for a completely different reason as he kissed her cheekbones sloppily.

"Are you sure? Are you sure _Troy Bolton _isn't the sexiest basketball player ever?"

Gabriella trailed her hand down his chest keeping eye contact as he felt her nails graze his skin.

"Maybe?" she breathed honestly, kissing his lower lip after a moment, feeling her kneecaps ache, which was her body's key sign of extreme tiredness.

Troy just chuckled, pulling the covers back over the both of them. "Well, Bolton the sexiest basketball player ever has the sexiest girlfriend ever."

Gabriella's eyes had already drooped as if made of lead, as she burrowed into her pillow, feeling his arms around her waist. "Huh. Yeah," she huffed, though with minimal sarcasm as she couldn't find the energy, only to quickly sit up to take out her contacts and let them fall carelessly to the floor.

Troy sighed, his voice muffled in her hair. "I love spooning."

Gabriella smiled with the slightest twitch of her lips, feeling herself already losing consciousness. "Me too," she mumbled before yawning softly, already lost in delicate slumber filled with dreams of intense ocean blue eyes and orgasmic waves on couch cushions.

**༻****~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺**

Left. Right. Jumpshot. Score. Repeat.

Troy felt the welcome burn of his muscles as he pounded shirtless across the basketball court in his backyard. He had been trying to vent his sexual frustration, because now whenever he passed his couch, he thought of _Her_ soft body bowing above him; whenever he passed the living room _door_, he thought of Her, for gods sake, and she hadn't even left his house yet. He jumped and sunk the ball into the basket, gripping the ring for a moment before letting himself drop the ground and turn on his nibble feet, only to be faced with the sight of a sunbathing Gabriella Montez. She was laid out on her back on a towel on his lawn, still wearing her shorts and t-shirt she had brought with her, and this made him smirk. It was boiling out, and yet she was shy about her body so much so that she wouldn't sunbathing properly, even after what they did the night before. Grabbing the basketball, he dribbled it lazily to the edge of the tarmac, leaving it to bounce to itself as he walked toward her. It was only now he noticed she was watching him through squinting eyes.

"Lookin' good, Wildcat," she flirted playfully, causing an unwelcome blush to spread up Troy's neck. He had always been somehow bashful about his body, probably because all the cheerleaders and gossipers at East High made him feel like he had to live up to such big expectations and rumours, plus he was much slighter than many other members of the basketball team, which his father liked to point out quite a bit. Luckily, his blush went unnoticed due to the flushed heat of his skin after playing, though he did scratch the back of his neck, a tell-tale sign to Gabriella of his bashfulness.

However, as quickly as his shyness had appeared, he covered it effortlessly, walking up to her body and dropping down to lean right over her, his hands either side of her head, sweaty body centimeters from hers.

"Hey," he greeted softly, an amused crooked smile on his face. "You boiled yet?"

Gabriella rolled her eyes before closing them. "No. I'm not. I'm keeping my shirt on."

Troy pouted playfully, before letting his grin take over again. "Even if it got all sweaty?"

Her maroon-chocolate eyes snapped open at that, with a look of almost horror on her face. "You wouldn't. No, don't––"

By the time she had spoken, he had already rubbed himself against her, transferring the moisture from his skin to the material covering her own. She gasped and squealed in disgust, pushing him off, only for him to gracefully rolled away and stand.

"_Ew. _Bastard," she cursed, though she wasn't sure she was actually as annoyed as she was letting on. After all, she thought as she let her gaze rake over him; with his flat stomach riveted with almost sculpted lines, a rib or two visible when he stretched; he was _divine, _and he had just rubbed himself all over her... looking like _that._ She watched him walk and pick up the hose, turning it on and holding it over his head, letting the water wet his hair and upper body, the droplets catching in his bangs, on his eyelashes, between his pecks, down his beautiful back...

She found her mouth was dry when she tried to speak. He turned to her with a knowing smile, suddenly far too bright to be genuine, and Gabriella could see the mischief in his eyes.

"You want me to hose you off?"

Gabriella rolled her eyes as his bright, nonchalant smile before moving to stand, which was anything but graceful as she almost fell on the slight slope. She really did need a hosing now, she was certainly hot and bothered.

After attempting to walk as straight as possible towards him, she grinned and bounded at him on impulse, taking the hose and letting it run between their bodies, wetting them both. It was so cold that for a moment it robbed her of breath, but after a moment it became clear how welcome the feeling was in this heat. She linked an arm around his neck as the water flowed between them.

"You did that on purpose," she accused in a soft voice.

"Did what?" he questioned with false nonchalance, making her smirk.

"Making me all...hot and bothered." As she spoke rubbed her chest suggestively against his, her eyes never leaving his.

"I did that?" he asked breathlessly, very much liking this game.

She smirked before pulling her t-shirt off as gracefully as possible, revealing her bikini beneath, which was mint green and striking against her skin.

"You do it often... and I think you know it."

Troy felt his hands dip down to her behind, pulling her onto her tiptoes to meet him as he kissed her hungrily, one hand quickly holding her head in place.

"_Christ," _he cursed under his breath at her sudden and ever increasing eagerness. What had he done to this girl?

"You drive me crazy," she whimpered as her hand rubbed up and down the right side of his chest as their lips met continuously, quick and feverish.

"Ditto, baby," he whispered back in her ear as she gripped his biceps, her head falling back to give access to her neck and throat. God, this had to stop before it got out of hand.

"Still don't think you're sexy?" he asked softly as they pulled apart, resting his hands on her hips, running the pads of his thumbs over her protruding hipbones, feeling the serrated bone beneath her skin, marveling how wide and feminine and _real _they felt against him. Her stomach, not completely taut, moved with every deep breath she took against his own, and he knew she was self conscious about how it looked, but he honestly couldn't see a problem with it. So she wasn't toned on the abs._ Big deal._ Who wanted a girlfriend with a six pack, anyway? He knew he didn't. A woman's stomach was not meant for that. It was for soft caresses and for bearing babies someday. He smiled, the picture of Gabriella as a mother filling his minds eye. He knew would make a great mother. Somehow, he just knew.

_Snap out of it, _he scolded himself. _She's just a girl. Just a girlfriend, who you'll probably never see again after she goes thousands of miles across the country to Stanford; a girl who would be frightened away by the thoughts you have in your head right now. Stop being ridiculous. You're _going _to lose her. Get over it, _his conscience reminded pessimistically.

As she blushed at his arousal in his shorts and shook her head 'no' in response to his question, he was endeared once again and her lack of self belief, her lack of knowledge at her own beauty. He watched her wet her dark curly hair with the hose, droplets trailing down her nose and face to her shoulders and breasts and arms...before she stepped close to him for a hug, which he gladly returned for no reason at all other than because she wanted it, and so did he.

_You don't want to lose her, _a small voice of reason sounded from somewhere deep inside him, somewhere his mind had locked away long after the first betrayal, the first heartbreak. _You don't want to lose her at all, and you know it._

Not long after they had both laid on the towels on the grass to dry, Lucille and Jack Bolton arrived home with Jack's father, Alex. Bringing Grandpa Alex with them from upstate to see his 'favourite grandson' had been a surprise. As they found the two in the backyard, Lucille felt her motherly instincts already warring. Something was different between them. Their smiles were more tender, their voices lower, their gaze held something much more secretive. She knew she was onto something.

"Hey, Mama," Troy greeted in the same almost southern drawl he had adopted for quite some time, waving at her from where he lounged beside Miss Montez, who's gaze was still very much apprehensive around Lucille. She knew that Gabriella was nervous in what to say around her, as she had remembered Lucille as a physiotherapist from quite a long time ago when she lived on the next state, a fact that Lucille had not told her son, and by the way he acted in front of the two of them, it was also a fact Gabriella had not told her boyfriend either. Gabriella smiled in her direction, and greeted her back kindly, though still with an element of shyness.

"I invited Gabriella over for lunch, is that okay?" he asked, though they both knew she couldn't say no––the girl was already here––and Troy was counting on this, his eyes ever so slightly pleading.

"Well what's one more guest, huh? Of course you can, Gabriella," she smiled, turning to go inside to prepare for the barbecue.

"One _more_ guest?" Troy picked up instantly, causing Lucille to smile gently to herself with her back turned to him. He was a very curious and intuitive boy.

"Yeah. Your mom here very kindly asked me for lunch and to stay for a few days," came her father-in-law's voice from the back door. "Is that okay with you?"

She turned and watched her son's grin widen in surprise. "_Grandpa Alex_?––hey! It's so good to see you!" he exclaimed as he bounded across the lawn to bear-hug his grandfather.

"It's good to see you to, kid. My––you've sure grown a lot." He pinched his grandson's visible bulging bicep muscle. "What's this, huh? You're old man been working you hard, hasn't he?"

"Yes sir," Troy agreed proudly, his voice dropping a little, his chest puffed out. "But of course, considering I only talked to you on the phone last week, you knew that."

"Ah, yes, of course," Alex laughed as they drew back from each other, their attention both turning to the brunette who was shyly making her way over to them, self-conscious of her walk, particularly when meeting people for the first time. She concentrated hard on turning her feet more outward, walking with her heels down to the ground first rather than her toes by default, trying to walk as straight as possible. Troy's smile for her was something else that Lucille had never seen on his face––oh no, wait, _once. _Back when that girl––Daisy––was still around. He really did have a crush on that girl then. However, the way he looked at Gabriella rivaled even that of his very first crush, and she was proud of him. Proud he was able to see past a disability that no doubt put the girl back in every aspect of life and made it hard to get out of bed everyday, both literally and metaphorically. Her son was becoming a man.

"Gramps, this is my girlfriend, Gabriella," he introduced with one hand on her back as she reached him. "Gab, this is my Grandpa Alex. Fair warning: he is more insane than any of the rest of us Boltons, but it's also the best."

"Delighted to meet you, my dear. Troy has told me about you." She smiled widely at the kind elder man, liking him instantly, with his grey hair and his kind blue eyes.

"Oh _really_?" she questioned with raised eyebrows in a skeptical expression. Troy, on the other hand, simply blushed involuntarily, scratching the back of his neck.

"Er, yeah," he coughed awkwardly, making Gabriella snigger at him.

"It's nice to meet you too," she smiled, pausing for a moment when she realised she wasn't sure what to refer to him as.

"Call me Gramps or Grandpa Alex. Everybody does," he said kindly, tapping her shoulder before slowly turning back towards the house.

"Okay," she agreed shyly, flushing shyly as Troy gently took her fingers in his loosely, giving her a reassuring smile before placing a open-mouth kiss to her hairline as the adults turned away.

"Hungry?" he asked gently, his blue eyes sparkling with some unknown emotion.

She simply nodded with a suddenly wide grin.

_Oh, this girl and her food_.

"Thought so," he joked, chuckling to himself.

**༻****~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺**

"C'mon, ask her to dance, kid," Grandpa Alex nudged Troy loudly as he put on an old Sinatra song.

"Oh, I don't know..." Gabriella quickly panicked, feeling full from Mrs Bolton's meal. "I can't dance..."

"_What_," Troy denied quickly. "You do too dance. I've seen you," he teased, leaning over the backyard table to grasp her hand opposite him.

"Come on you two. When I was your age, I asked girls to dance all the time. If fact, before your grandmother, there was this one girl, Martha, now..."

He launched into his story about Martha with the terrifying dad, his very first dance with a girl. The second girl he danced with ended up being his wife. Troy smiled to himself, thinking of many of the basketball team's antics with girl after girl at parties. How times had changed.

Troy watched his Gramps begin to dance with Gabriella, who flushed and laughed her way through it. Troy then quickly leapt to her rescue, much to his grandfather's delight, who soon began snapping photos of the two.

"Oh, so, _this _is who you got your photography talent from," Gabriella identified playfully as they danced from side to side enthusiastically. His hand was warm around hers, and warm at her waist.

"He wishes," Gramps joked softly from behind his old-fashion Canon, using film, no doubt. Gabriella giggled, loving the feel of Troy's strong, now clothed shoulder under her hand. Troy began humming along with Sinatra, rocking with her from side to side, his cheek against her head.

"You make a mighty fine couple, you two," Gramps smiled as he put his camera down. "You make sure you look after her," he scolded playfully to his grandson, who nodded and pulled Gabriella to his body, halting their dancing. "Beautiful, intelligent, interesting girls who have strong, independent opinions of their own and something unique about them don't come along all the time. They're once in a blue moon, kid."

Gabriella flushed the deepest pink and trained her eyes to the ground. Troy nodded thoughtfully, kissing her reassuringly on the hairline. "I know, Gramps. I'll look after her." He looked down at her sideways, catching her shy brown eyes with a brave smile. "I promise."

"I could say the same about your grandson," Gabriella spoke up softly with a smile, avoiding looking at him as she knew she would blush massively again. She met Grandpa Alex's eyes as her arms squeezed around his taut, solid waist. "He does look after me."

**༻****~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺**

"Yet another weekend with you, Miss Montez," Troy husked in the quiet of his truck cabin.

Gabriella smiled down at her lap, fumbling around with her bag. "Oh yes, it has been another weekend in a row, hasn't it?" She swallowed. "No wonder your friends feel like they aren't seeing you. You know..." she paused, "You can hang out with if you like. I won't mind."

Troy frowned with a smile on his face, shaking his head in dismissal. "Hang out with a load of sport obsessed, sweaty, loud guys..." He leant over the gears toward her. "Why would I do that, when I could hang out with a girl who...makes me feel alive..." He pushed her hair away from her face. "Plus, when I'm with them..." he husked, eyeing her to-die-for red lipstick so had applied earlier. "...all I'll be thinking about...is how much I can't wait to do this..." A moment later his lips met hers softly, but pulled away all too soon.

Gabriella flushed bashfully, cracking an adorable smile as she squeezed his hand for a moment. "I should go... It's getting late."

He pushed his unruly bangs, untamed since they woke up this morning, out of his eyes as he nodded, quickly climbing out of the truck, only to climb with ease and strength over the back of the truck to open her door.

"Thank you," she smiled, kissing his angular cheekbone that was soft from shaving.

"You're welcome," he returned, in that serene, kind voice she loved so much.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Laters, baby," he husked, kissing her hairline again.

Gabriella grinned giddily as she turned to walk up to her house.

"By the way," he called after her, taking a few large steps to meet her again. "Last night––"

"––Was the best night of my life." Gabriella finished the sentence for him, worried he already regretted, but then he face broke into a grin that no doubt mirrored her own, and she knew he didn't.

Troy nodded, suddenly shy. She leant up and kissed his cheek again, feeling as though suddenly the roles were reversed.

"Bye," he trailed, only letting go of her hand at the last moment, his eyes following her into the house.

"Bye," she replied. "Make sure you do your homework!" she called from the door with a grin. He scoffed as he reached his truck, making her grin even more.

"Homework––What's that?"

Gabriella giggled as she watched his leave, returning his wave and then walking into her front door. She had been too wrapped up notice that there had been a load if cases on the porch, but once walking into the kitchen, there was no way of not noticing...

Gabriella's mind raced with anxiety and annoyance.  
>Amber was here, with <em>stuff, <em>meaning she was staying with them again...  
>The only question was...for how long this time?<p> 


	25. On The Lamb

A/N: _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know I haven't updated by A levels are so stressful right now and I'm in the school play and it's like 2 weeks until my 18th birthday and gah, it's just, everything is all over the place. _

_Sending my love to Zac with his jaw and his rehab and so on. I love you, so much :)_

_Also sending love to any of my readers from the Philippines. My thoughts are with you. xxxxx _

_Please review! _

* * *

><p><strong>On The Lamb<strong>

"So, how was your..._date?"_ came Chad's murmured question as the Wildcats were getting ready for morning practice. His friend's question broke through Troy's reverie, who had been almost completely silent and wearing a cheshire grin all morning. "What did you do?"

"Nothin' much," Troy lied smoothly, but was unable to banish the massive smile from his features, the image of Gabriella covered in chocolate, giggling on his kitchen floor barging itself back to the forefront of his mind again. God, he missed her.

"Bull. _Shit_," quipped Chad lowly, looking around them to make sure the rest of the team were not eavesdropping. "That grin you have had on your face since we got in this morning rivals that of my mom when there's a 'Bachelor' marathon, so don't give me that shit."

Troy rolled his eyes, still smiling. "I took her skydiving, like we talked about."

"And _then?" _Chad prompted. When Troy didn't answer, Chad sniggered, narrowing his dark eyes playfully at his Captain and life long friend. "You _dog_."

Troy turned his back on his friend, pulling his vest out of his prized locker and pulling it over his head, covering his bare chest. "Don't, Chad." He warned. "Gabi wouldn't want you to know that stuff. Don't you dare think about telling anyone, or teasing her in front of the team. I mean it."

Chad blinked, pausing in bemusement. "'_Gabi?'" _Troy closed his eyes, cursing himself. Why did he get the feeling this was only going to get worse? "Did you just say '_Gabi?'" _Chad shook his head, pulling on his own uniform. "Jeez. You're whipped, man. _Whip-p-ed_."

Troy closed his eyes, thinking of Gabriella and their evening on his living room couch...and he grinned again, despite the ribbing from his friend. He couldn't help himself.

"I know," he replied simply, looking over at his friend who was looking at him with an amused smile. "And I really couldn't fucking care less."

"I'm glad, man," he murmured, conscious that the locker room was filling up. "But just answer this. Did you...?" he trailed, letting Troy catch his insinuation.

"No," Troy replied, quickly. "No, she's not ready for that yet, man. We did..._stuff_, just not _that_."

Chad smirked, patting his friends shoulder. "Finally."

Troy turned back fully to him with a confused expression, though there was a playful look in his eye. "What's _that _supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what you think it does. You're finally getting some."

"_Shut up,_" Troy hissed at the volume of Chad's voice. Then his face adopted a confident crooked grin. "Well, at least I'm not so far gone over a brainiac that I fall flat on my face at the sight of her."

Chad became instantly defensive, causing Troy to chuckle to himself.

"That was _one, time," _he hissed in reply, hoping the rest of the team hadn't heard. No one else knew about his..._thing _for Taylor McKessie. Not even Gabriella.

"Whatever, dude," he smirked, moving toward the gymnasium.

"It was _one time!" _

Forty-five minutes later, the East High Wildcats had drilled and free-threw and drilled some more, and Troy was finding it increasing difficult to concentrate. After the conversation with Chad, images of his girlfriend and their weekend together flashed before his eyes with every jump shot, every pass, every attempt at three-pointer. The way her laughed, and smiled, and flirted, and held him while he held her, and wore his Coldplay shirt and nothing else, and made him the best desserts on the fucking planet, and the ways she tasted mingled with chocolate... He could think of nothing else, even when surrounded by his teammates in the stinky, sweaty gym.

He was pretty sure he was losing it.

"_Bolton!" _barked Coach Bolton impatiently at his son, who was clearly not paying attention to the game his team mates were currently playing.

Troy's head snapped instantly out of the gutter.

"_Get your head in the game!"_

"Sorry, Coach," he replied quickly, running for the ball.

"Pick it up, boys! _Pick it up!"_ came his father's sharp voice, making him grimace as his neck disappeared into his shoulders. Even when practice time was over, Coach Bolton's ire didn't thaw, and Troy gulped. Not good. As all his teammates headed for the showers, he went to follow behind them, scurrying, hoping to escape unnoticed by his father...

"Troy––come back here, please."

...with no such luck.

"Yeah, Dad?"

Troy watched his father's jaw tick. "When we're in here, I'm your _coach, _Troy."

Troy instantly became defensive, his brow furrowing deeply at his fathers tone. "I _know, _dad."

Coach Bolton, who was only slightly taller than his teenage son, narrowed his eyes as they remained locked with a mirroring set of blue irises. "Do you?" he challenged, sharply. "Because, frankly, after watching you out there today, I'm not sure you do. I'm not sure you're taking this very seriously at all."

"_Dad_..." Troy trailed, bemused, but with an element of warning, looking over his shoulders, embarrassed that the entire team hadn't left the gym yet.

"No, _Troy. _I have been watching you go out weekend after weekend, neglecting your practice. You only have _one chance _at this championship, Troy. _Back to back _championships. I'm starting to think you don't understand what that _means, _for your team, for your _future––"_

"––The Championship's important, Dad. _I get it," _Troy snapped in return. "But other things are important too––"

"––And by that I guess you're talking about that handicapped girl of yours?"

Troy felt anger begin to burn within him as adrenaline began to spike in his blood. He ground his teeth continuously, and even when he spoke, he didn't trust himself to apart them even then. "_That, 'handicapped' _girl?" Troy shook his head slightly after a moment, letting out a humourless chuckle. This was so typical of his father. Always so set on the wrong goal and blind to all others. "_She_ has a name. It's _Gabriella... _and she's very nice. You can approve or disapprove of her all you like, because it won't make a difference. But, besides all that, she has nothing to do with this."

"She's made you miss extra practice time after practice time, and that doesn't make her very nice. At least, not to me––or your team!"

"She hasn't _made _me do anything!" Troy neared his father, feeling himself beginning to lose control of his temper. "_God, _listen to you! What does this matter? I'm here, aren't I, even though it bores me to _hell and back_? I haven't missed a single team practice. The only difference now is, I'm not living like you want me to, so now you figure I'm not dedicated. Well news flash, dad––this is _my _life––"

Jack Bolton shook his head dismissively, rolling his eyes. "––That you're about to throw away on a girl you met just weeks ago, for gods sake, Troy––"

"_Leave her out of this. _She has nothing to do with you and your fucking basketball! She's just a _girl––_"

At his cursing, Troy watched his fathers eyes widen the narrow, his posture squaring his shoulders in a battle of dominance. "––But you're _not 'just' _a guy, Troy! Don't you _get _that?"

There was a long moment of silence, as Troy let his eyes drop to his shoes in hopeless defeat. Not this again. Why did everyone seem to think of him as though he were some ungodly creature? He wasn't. He could only disappoint people who held him on such a pedestal, but they always seemed to place him there without him even knowing or having a say in it. Spending life trying to compete with the worlds idea of your own self was exhausting.

"Yeah, well..." Troy looked up, suddenly resigned and tired of the conversation, his voice low. "That's where you're wrong, Dad."

With a deep inward sigh, Troy turned numbly toward the exit of the gym, closing his eyes wearily.

_That's where they were _all_ wrong._

**༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺**

"Hey," came the soft, melancholy murmur from Gabriella behind him as he sat on the bleachers, staring blankly at the cross country track. He knew it was her as she was the only one who knew he was here. He'd texted her the minute he left practice. He needed to calm down, and she seemed to do just that. When he was with her, all else seemed to fade into insignificance.

"Hey," he replied, softly, never taking his eyes from the figures running like clockwork around the track. She sat down shyly next to him, not touching him, so he turned to her, and was surprised to find an equally tired and resigned look in her brown eyes. He had expected to see the usual spark there, but there was none. Not today.

Simultaneously, seemingly silently making an mutual agreement, their eyes met and they both slowly moved into a tight hug, burrowing their faces into the crooked of each others necks.

"I've missed you," he sighed into her hair. "So much. It's been the shittiest day, and it's not even lunch yet."

Gabriella felt her heart jump at his admission. She had felt so stupid this morning waking up missing him so much it almost hurt, and getting changed at the speed of light in a rush to get to school to see him again. She'd been disappointed to discover he had practice so she couldn't see him, so she was even more eager to see him when she received his text after practice.

"I know what you mean."

"Call me crazy, but it seems the minute I'm apart from you, everything stops...making sense?" Troy pulled back, his hand finding hers.

"Exactly!" She agreed. "I had _the _worst Sunday night. Seriously, the _shittiest. _My cousin turned up at my house, it was just..._urgh.."_

Troy would usually have flinched and grimaced at the mention of her cousin, the girl he was pretty sure he messed around with for a dare at a party last year, due to the reminder with every utterance of her name that still hadn't stop Gabriella, however, he was too drained from his earlier fury to react, much less tell her the truth.

"What happened?" he asked neutrally, looking back to the track as his thumb smoothed over the back of her hand.

"My mom's sister, my aunt, had to go away on business." Gabriella swallowed her emotion, watching the track also. "So my cousin has come to stay with us again while she's away, like she did last time... which is..._joyous._" Her sarcasm is palpable. "But I don't want to talk about it, just as I'm sure you don;t want to hear it. It only makes me even more pissed, which is not pretty..." She trailed from her humourous chatter as she noticed he hadn't moved, or even smiled, but simply stared blankly out at the massive running track, his only movement being his thumb moving rhythmically over her hand. "Troy?" Gabriella enquired in a soft voice. "Is something wrong?"

Troy rubbed the heel of his palm over his brow wearily, sniffing before turning to her. Gabriella swallowed, trying to ignore the way the muscles in his arms shifted under the scarlet fabric on his sleeves, the red and white contrasting drastically with his golden tan and azure eyes.

"I had an..._incident_ with my dad after practice." He frowned down at his lap. "I don't know what the hell is up with him. He just started yelling at me for not calling him Coach, and saying I wasn't taking basketball seriously, _just _because I haven't been doing nothing but basketball in my free time, which I know is what he wants me to do..." He sighed again, and Gabriella mind was instantly reeling.

Troy noticed her looking even more distant, so paused and leaned his face towards her. "What?'

She studied her fingers subconsciously. "It's because of me, isn't it?" She sighed, rolling her eyes. "I _knew _this would happen, oh god, and it's not even been a full day of us being 'together' and even your dad is already against––"

"––_Don't," _Troy admonished instantly, cupping his hand at the side of her neck to lower his eye-line to hers. "Don't you dare."

"I'm right though, aren't I?" Gabriella whispered, sounding sad. This was it. They were over already.

"No," Troy denied, causing her heart to stutter in shock and hope, "No." His tone was adamant, as he picked up a piece of her hair, absentmindedly. "That's what they _want_. I told him that I'm determined to win this championship but that that has _nothing_ to do with you." He rested his head on his hand as his elbow rested on his knee, looking over at her. "Then he started saying that I wasn't 'just a guy,' and whatever... and this _playmaker _shit." He rubbed his hands together as he rested his elbows on his knees. Gabriella watched him carefully, seeing a recurring battle surfacing from within him, playing on his features. "Why does this keep happening? What is it that they're seeing about 'Troy Bolton' that I don't see?"

Gabriella sighed with him, leaning a head on his shoulder, to which he instantly reacted, turning to put an arm around her, letting her head rest against his collarbone. She looked up at him, smoothing her palm shyly over his jaw, leaning up to kiss his chin. "They're seeing the Troy Bolton everyone else sees...except for you," she murmured, her tone slightly melancholy. "He's right, Troy, you are a playmaker..." Troy's shoulders instantly drooped, feeling defeated that even his girlfriend agreed with his father. Perhaps there was no hope. Perhaps he couldn't break this mould.

Gabriella, noticing this, quickly jumped to reassure him otherwise. "_But_, you're also so much more than that." Her hands shyly crept into his hair, and she loved the feel of it between her fingers. "_That's_ what they don'tsee."

Troy curled his arms around her and held her brown eyes gaze, not sure how to reply. He didn't like showing his vulnerability, but he had to talk to someone about this, as it plagued him every day, and only Gabriella seemed to make him forget.

"The same goes for you, you know," Troy murmured as a tiny smile tugged at his lips. "You're so much more than _they _see...than I _used _to see." He leant his face so close to hers as she looked at her lap that she could feel his warm breath against her temple, "But it's different now, and I'm a better person for it. I feel so honoured I can finally really _see _you." She almost jumped when she suddenly felt him nuzzle her temple with his nose, turning to him in surprise. Who knew Troy Bolton could be so tender? "It's almost like I was blind before, or something."

Gabriella, not wanting to show herself up, swallowed the emotion she could feel building in her throat and his words and instead nudged him side, humorously. "Okay, _now _you're just being melodramatic."

Troy chuckled. _Same old Gabriella, _he thought. _Never able to take a compliment. _

"I mean it," he defended weakly as she stared out at the track, trying to cover the blush in her cheeks that had also creeped up her neck. He was suddenly completely preoccupied watching her, as he knew she could feel his eyes on her. Simply watching her breath was fascinating, as she was so different from him and yet so...the same. Her breasts rose up and down with every breath as they sped up, and her hair was picked up by the gentle breeze.

"Hey, _Gabriellaaa?"_ he inquired with great mischief in his voice, leaning down so his face was an inch from hers. She, trying to remain professional in a school environment, stared forward, pretending not to hear him.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered. "On the bleachers, in front of the running track, where people might see..." he teased, wanting to lighten the mood.

"Gabriella?"

With a sigh, she gave in. "Like you have to ask..." she whispered back, gently tugging him down to meet her, her lips eagerly pressing against his, practically swooning as she felt his bicep muscles tighten around her body, as one of his hands cradled her head. She crossed her bare legs and one overlapped over his jean-clad ones. It was only then that Troy actually realised what she was wearing. A red, casual wrap dress, that matched the sleeves on his shirt. _God, _and the _lipstick..._ He had to restrain himself.

"Hmm, we're wearing that lipstick again," he joked huskily, knowing it had transferred to him own lips, drawing back only a fraction to study her face.

"What is it with you and lipstick?" She poked him in his ribs. "Should I be worried?"

"I'll let you know," he murmured, kissing her again through her giggles.

There were wolf-whistles from the running track, causing Gabriella to pull away with a deep, mortified blush, instantly snapping back into her valedictorian, straight-A, shy self at the sound. Troy grinned at her, kissing her temple and curling her into him.

"I have to tell you," Troy husked into Gabriella's ear, hiding in her thick curls. "There's another reason my dad got pissed at me..."

"Why? What did you do?" Gabriella asked, accusingly, trying to suppress a grin.

"Well..." he trailed, looking down with a slight blush. "To be honest, I just couldn't stop thinking about..._Saturday..."_

Gabriella felt a hot flush ripple through her body, and it was all she could do not to groan out loud at the thought.

"Oh, that," she breathed, trailing her thumb nails down his arms as he dropped kissed down her neck. "_Fuck_, me too."

"Careful there, potty-mouth," Troy teased, smirking against her neck, though his jeans were feeling tight. "Someone might be getting a little carried away."

"That's a little hypocritical, don't you think?" she challenged, skimming a hard up his jeaned thigh, her gaze flittering down to his semi-disguised erection.

"Perhaps," he chuckled, reveling in how she felt against him. "That blush."

"Don't tease me," she pouted, turning away from him. He grasped her waist and pulled her back to him, to which she emitted a small squeal.

"Sorry, you're just so innocent. It's cute."

Gabriella glared at him, her gaze suddenly narrowed and lethal. It took all his energy to repress a grin. "I'm _what_ now?" He watched her eyebrow cock in defiance, crossing her arms over her chest away from him. "I don't you recall you complaining on Saturday."

Troy was desperately trying to repress his hysterics and failing miserably, her pissed expression just too much. "N-no," he spluttered, clearing his throat. "I guess not."

She shoved at him and went to stand, then suddenly turned back to him on her heel. The smirk on her features also frightened him. "So... I'm innocent, huh?"

"Gabriella, I didn't mean it like that," he defended, quickly, afraid he really had offended her. She was silent for a minute, pretending nonchalantly to inspect her nails.

"Well... In _that _case... I suppose I won't have to prove you wrong again." She said, pulling an imaginary lint from her dress. "I _was _going to suggest we maybe...I don't know... go home for lunch?"

Troy's gaze instantly snapped to her, swallowed thickly. "_Lunch?_" he squeaked, his voice cracking. "What did you have in mind?"

"That depends," she conceded, softly. "Still think I'm so innocent?"

**༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺**

Pinned to the inside of her front door, Gabriella felt her senses near to singing already. Troy's hard, hot body pressed her against the wood, his hand pinned to the boundary of her panties, hers creeping to the fly of his jeans. His lips trailed leisurely down her throat and she arched against him.

"Where's your mom?" he enquired, huskily, against her neck.

"Work," she breathed hurriedly, squeezing her thighs together.

"Thank god for that," he whispered, holding her head in his hands for a moment. They were both breathing heavily, and after a moment, Gabriella groaned, tugging his arm. She pulled him up the stairs hurriedly, feeling adrenaline surge through her. She felt so naughty, bringing Troy Bolton into her house like this.

"Ah, shit," she mumbled, embarrassed as she fell up the steps, a usual occurrence for her, especially she was excited or preoccupied. Troy automatically picked her up with the strength of the one hand already holding hers. She flushed pink, but Troy simply grinned, batting her exposed butt playfully. She sent him a mock-glare, but he simply kissed the back of her head a few times, letting his lips then fall to her neck. He was chuckling behind her, but instantly fell silent as they entered her bedroom and she pushed him back onto her bed.

"You going to have your wicked way with me now?"

"All I know is we need to be back for english class."

_Typical, _he thought.

"Oh, Gabi," he chuckled, pulling her to him, their lips meshing together feverishly. It all suddenly seemed a rush, as Troy's hand pushed up her dress and slowly pushed past her panties. She arched to him with a moan, undoing the button on his jeans, so she could push her hand down the front of them, feeling his ever-increasing hardest against her palm. He growled in response, finding the bundle of nerves with his thumb that sent her in a frenzy and applying pressure. She rifled against him for friction, sliding her hand under the barrier of his boxers, gasping for air at the feel of his erection in her fist.

"Oh, fuck," he panted.

In an instant, Gabriella had ridded herself of her dress, quickly tugging at Troy's jeans, breathing hard. Suddenly, it was as though her body was not her own, as though she were a mixture of drunk and ablaze, and suddenly she didn't care for modesty. She practically ripped her bra from her body, letting a flat palm smooth down his exposed abs and stomach, where the soft, dark trail of hair lay.

At the swift exposure of her body, Troy gulped, saliva filling his mouth. On Saturday night, his living room had been dim and so his view of her had been murky, but now, she was above him, in nothing but panties, clear as day. "Oh, fuck, wow," he sighed, burying his face between her soft, velvet-like breasts, taking a swelled, pink nipple into his mouth.

"Oh, fuck, wow," she mirrored, wrapping arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him and close to her as possible.

Soon after this, both were naked and wanting, though both also knew neither were ready to go all the way. Troy watched as tendrils of Gabriella's dark hair stuck to her face with the slickness of sweat. He rolled them over on top of her bed covers, desperately trying to reign himself in, though his body screamed to enter her.

"God, Troy, fuck me, please." she whimpered, pleading him breathlessly, as his eyes slammed shut, pained.

"I can't... I can't," he panted, rubbing his groin with hers to create the delicious friction they both craved.

"Please, fuck, I need you, god, I need you." She couldn't believe her own words. Was she really offering herself to him on a Monday lunchtime? What the hell was happening to her standards?

_But it's Troy Bolton! _her inner, socially-outcast self cried. _Troy Bolton. You have no idea how long you'll have the chance for this. Carpe fucking Diem, Gabriella!_

"Gabriella." Troy breathed firmly, kissing her shoulder, gently pressing his groin to hers, breaking her also delirious reverie. After a moment, he lifted his head to meet her eyes. "As much as you think you want this, I guarantee you, if we did this now, the minute I entered you, you'd wish I hadn't." He swallowed, hiding his face against her sternum. "It would hurt... and it's messy." He pushed back his bangs, breathing hard. "As much as it..._pains _me to say this in our current position... It's not the time. Do you really want to rush it like this?"

Gabriella tried her best not to feel stung by this. It wasn't rejection, it was concern. He didn't want to hurt her... and he was right too, after all.

"No, you're right, of course you're right," she sighed, running a hand down his back. "I know. I'm sorry..."

Troy leant up to kiss her, his hands roaming over her nude hips and thighs, a tiny, shy smile returning to his features. "Don't apologise. I wish we could do this, but I'm not letting you throw your first time away on a school fucking lunch time, Gabi." Gabriella began to giggle hysterically, and as he realised what he had said, he joined in. "No pun intended."

Gabriella calmed, running a hand right into his hair, scratching his scalp, gently. "Another time, then."

Troy was quiet for a minute, making sure to hold her gaze in reassurance, as this was much more of a promise than just an agreement. "Yes. Another time."

The two slowly touched each other until their bodies hummed in orgasmic bliss on her bed sheets, but they didn't cross the line, as agreed, sticking to pure foreplay. Afterward, as Troy returned from the bathroom with toilet paper, he paused at Gabriella's nightstand, admiring the many pictures of her at every stage of childhood, from toddler to lanky pre-teen.

"Aw," he cooed with a chuckle at the sight of the photos. "Look at you!" A particular frame caught his eye, as he picked it up, he looked back round at Gabriella who had pulled on a fresh pair of panties and almost toppled over from lack of balance in the process. He walked over to her in his boxers, holding out the photo of a very young Gabriella Montez, with shoulder-length curls, grinning toothily in nothing but a pair of bikini bottoms at the top of a plastic garden water slide. He guessed she was no older than three. He held it out so that the little Gabriella was in the left of his vision and the current Gabriella in the right, who was laying, topless, on her bed, grinning at him, still breathing hard from their...activities. He slowly displayed a splitting grin. "I can see the resemblance."

Gabriella giggled, snatching the photo from him. "I like to think I'm not too similar still."

"Parts of you are," he defended, quickly. "The best parts." He softly touched her cheek at she sat up to meet him. "The smile..." He traced her full lips with his fingertips. "The eyes..." His thumbs ran over her eyelids, then down her cheeks and into her hair. "The curls."

"Are you sure you're not seeing things?"

Troy rolled his eyes and smiled at her, kissing her and pulling her against his chest.

"What to see a real shocker of a photo?"

He nodded, eagerly, letting go of her as she shyly moved past him to dig through a draw, still finding it so alien to be acting so naturally with a man in the room...was she was topless. She just...didn't do this. Cheerleaders did. _'Cool' _crowds did. Not freaky, weird girl Gabriella...

He watched her unique way of walking as she returned to him and it made his heart swell with some unknown emotion.

"Recognise me now?" she asked, holding the earliest photo of her in front of his face. He blinked, not quiet sure what he was seeing. However, it was only after a moment or two that he realised what he was looking at. In the photo was a tiny, tiny baby, _unbelievably _tiny. Surely this wasn't a real baby? The skin was a bright pinky-red and the tiny fingers gripped round tiny lolly-pop sticks that were taped to its hands. There was a finger, an almost giant finger, in the frame, reaching out to touch the baby's skin. Troy swallowed, not quiet believing his eyes.

"This is _you_?"he asked, earnestly shocked. This baby was so small, far too small to be of a heathy birth weight. He sat down on her bed, pulling her onto his lap as they both looked at the small photograph. "But you're so small."

"Yeah," Gabriella replied, softly. "I was born at twenty-five weeks."

"_Tw––" _Troy stumbled over his words, disbelieving. "_Twenty-five weeks?" _He looked from the photo back to the girl in his lap. "But that's almost three whole months early..." He smoothed a thumb over the photo. He paused for a long moment, trying to fathom how this was possible. "H-how?"

"We don't exactly know how or why. All we know is I was lucky to survive...and that my mom likes to tell the story of my birth every chance she gets."

Troy swallowed, pulling her body tighter against him.

"She says I was only this big," she indicated, gently staking his hand in hers, flattening it and sliding her palm flat on top of his. "My dad always says my hand was the size of his thumbnail."

"You were the size of my hand?" he husked thoughtfully, looking intently at his girlfriend while she looked down at the hands, loving of the feel of her satin palm against his rougher one. "Well, shit," he husked. "Who would've thought."

Gabriela shrugged and swallowed, and Troy wasn't sure if she was entirely comfortable talking about this, and he wondered why.

"That's why I walk like I do and have bad eyesight and shit," she whispered, not looking up at him. "Apparently I was starved of oxygen at birth or something."

Troy's mind began reeling, his pre-med interests causing him to filter through his existing medical knowledge to try and comprehend what he had just heard. "So it's a nerve signal thing?" He guessed, recalling that de-oxygenation of brain tissue during birth often caused mobility and/or mental defects.

"Very good, Wildcat," she smiled, affectionately, somewhat proud of how smart he already was. "It is indeed a nerve signal issue. My mom used to use a train analogy," she recalled with a cringe. "She'd say my legs don't work right because they're like trains with the wrong signal. The areas of my brain, or my 'train stations,' that deliver the signals to my legs, didn't develop right, and so the signals my legs get aren't like everyone else, meaning my 'trains' run on a different track..." She swallowed, hiding her face under his chin. "I suppose it was enough to make me feel less different for a while...but not long. I'd soon forget the sweet train analogy when the bullies turned up."

Troy wrapped her arms around her and hugged her crushingly to him, feeling pity radiate from his heart and soul. Possessiveness took hold of him and he began mentally punching the lights out of all her former school bullies. "Are there still bullies now?"

She shook her head with a small sigh. "No... Just the same old side glances and sniggers and stuff. Nothing I can't handle." She lifted her gaze to meet his as she felt him stiffen with tension.

"Are you sure? Really sure? Because if there are, I'll talk to them."

"Troy, the limit to my bullies now is Sharpay Evans, who isn't so much of a bully as just intimidates the life out of me... Well, she _did." _Troy watched as a slow, almost smug smile appeared on her lips. "Something tells me she won't bother me now." Suddenly, the memory of Sharpay's expression that day when Troy had been there for her was nothing sort of hilarious. She began giggling to herself. "Her face that day, with you there..."

"It _was_ very funny, huh?" Troy pulled back, trying to ignore his girlfriend's topless form as to not get carried away.

"Very..." She suddenly frowned. "Huh. I've just realised I never thanked you for that."

"Don't even mention it," Troy answered quickly, kissing her lips slowly, with such practiced ease that Gabriella would have felt incredibly intimidated, if hadn't been for the profound feeling of privilege she felt for being on the receiving end of such kisses. She sighed, which, if she was honest with herself, was more likely to have been a swoon. Troy's hands skimmed down her breasts, their velvet texture making him wish he could cocoon himself up with her and leave the world behind.

"I love it when you touch me like that," she whispered honestly, blushing simultaneously. He swallowed, feeling a all too familiar painful problem brew in his boxers.

"I know," he whispered in reply, with deliberate smugness, dropping a hand into her fresh panties, feeling the moisture there to prove his point. He nudged her just in the right place, and she threw her head back in anticipation of the building euphoria.

"Fuck, you know your biology," she husked in praise at the skill with which he could touch her body, to which Troy chuckled lustily. It did occur to her that perhaps he was only this good because he'd had a lot of practice, but she quickly banished all such thoughts from her mind. After all, it wasn't his fault if girls liked him.

He slowly brought her to her peak again, but not before she began simultaneously returning the favour. However, before they could make a mess on her bed, as they were in a much less..._clean _position this time round, she suddenly rose from his lap and tugged at his hand.

"Shower," she explained, huskily, and Troy felt his mouth become like sandpaper. She stumbled at her feet touched the floor after climbing from his lap, and he quickly steadied her as she grimaced.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, it's just my hip," she whispered. "It's okay now. Come on," she beckoned, kissing him heatedly, tugging at his hair.

"God, what monster have I created?"

Gabriella grinned wickedly, pulling him into the bathroom. "One who feels like there's still time for one more orgasm each before we eat my mom's left over pasta and drive back to school."

Troy watched her unique way of moving as she lead him into the bathroom that resulted in her butt sticking out toward him. He hurried to stop her from taking off her own panties, wanting to do it for her. Slowly and sensually, he peeling them from her hips, his unfocused eyes staring into hers as their foreheads rested together. Next to go were his boxers, and then, in an instant, they were under a cascade of water.

Gabriella stepped under first, knowing Troy was behind her. However, neither spoke, or made a move at first to touch the other. Gabriella felt his eyes on the back of her head, and slowly she turned, backing up to the shower wall at a snails pace, his eyes on Troy through the solid wall of water. Troy swallowed, and Gabriella watched his desire building to the brink as his eyes smoldered, suddenly a much more intense darker shade of blue as his pupils were dilated, his bangs stuck to his forehead. He looked like a carnal, wild animal, who was staring at so much prey that it didn't know where to start. She realised she was breathing heavily, and so was he, though her breaths were much louder, as she could hear them over the sound of pelting water. Due to the hesitation, Gabriella felt her nipples harden impossible, the solid droplets of water hitting them almost painfully, and she began to moan with every hit, arched herself to the water. She was about to open her mouth, to beg Troy to move, but that was all it took. It was suddenly as though an atomic bomb had exploded between them.

"Jesus _Christ, _Elle," he growled as his mouth attacked hers, gripping her slick, soaked body to his own. With no need to worry about not making a mess or making a noise, Gabriella found herself trying desperately grasping at any part of Troy's body she could reach. His bangs, his broad shoulders, his beautiful back, his rounded, perk buttocks. He was emitting small primal growls from within his chest with every curious squeeze of her hands, but no sound was more than that emitted from him as she reached between then and grasped his painfully stiff erection. "You're going to kill me."

"Mmmf," came an unnamed sound from her mouth in response, all words leaving her as Troy fingers returned to their skilled position inside her, pressing that spot that made her gasp for air that wouldn't come. With this continuous, intense stimulation, Gabriella writhed desperately try to reach her peak, moaning unceremoniously as he back arched, the back of her head pressed hard to the cool tiles.

"Yes, baby, yes, yes," he encouraged through gritted teeth, as her fist continued to pump his erection while he pleasured her.

His fingers curled and hit just the right spot, and Gabriella felt her legs begin to shake violently with impending orgasm, all her muscles beginning to tense impossibly in anticipation. Gabriella suddenly doubted she was going to able to stand much longer. Still continuing, Troy curled an arm around her waist, knowing she was close. A moment later, Gabriella let out a loud cry, orgasming violently around his fingers, her body arched against the tiles, nails digging into Troy's arm and middle as her body continued to spasm out of her control, her eyes rolled back to the ceiling. Her toes her curled against the shower floor and were beginning to cramp painfully.

"Ahh, ahh" she gasped out, with sudden desperation, the pain of the lactic acid in her muscles distracting her momentarily from the near blinding pleasure.

"What, what is it?" Troy called anxiously over the sound of the water, withdrawing from her, quickly, to which she whimpered.

"Cramp," she panted. "Cramp. Cramp, ow." Troy instantly bent to pick up her foot and curled up her toes, pushing them up against his palm. She sighed with instant relief. "Thank you, Wildcat."

She sounded so grateful, Troy couldn't help but chuckle, despite his own..._painfully _aroused condition. Seeming to realise this, Gabriella set down her foot and quickly grasped him, enjoying the sight of the hiss escaping his teeth, as his eyes rolled back into his head. She went to move quickly, but Troy's hand halted her.

"Slow," he ground out. "I'm so close... It won't take much."

She did as he said, barely moving her hand over his member, but deliberately skimming her nipples against his chest and attaching her mouth to his neck. As she teeth nipped him sensually and her hand slide up and down him, he quickly exploded with a strangled groan, his hot seed spilling continuously onto her hand. She rested her forehead against his chest, gasping for breath as he was, and for an unknown amount of time, stared unfocused down at her hand as the water quickly let all evidence of what she had just done spill from her skin. She could feel her heartbeat radiating all through her face and her limbs, and she almost felt boneless. She was barely aware of Troy kissing her ear and nuzzling into her wet hair under the water. Soon after, he took her hand and led her carefully out of the shower, wrapping a towel tight around her before rubbing himself dry quickly with the other. Gabriella felt unsteady on her feet, the intensity of the last ten minutes suddenly catching up to her body. The heat of the water had made her skin pink and hot, never mind the fact she had been aroused to the blink as well, and she felt her legs ache from trying to stand throughout her orgasm, her heart pounding through her skull.

"Here," Troy murmured gently, sitting her down on the closed lid of the toilet. He had wrapped his towel around his waist and crouched to her eye-line with a concern frowned. "You still with me, baby?"

"Mmm-hmm," she hummed, leaning against his shoulder suddenly. It felt like all energy had left her, and all she wanted was to cuddle up with Troy under the warm water and sleep.

_Yes, you idiot, _came the voice of her inner––and very vocal––cynic. _That's the endorphins. Haven't you heard of how women always want to cuddle post-sex and men always want to sleep? Well, this is that._

"You sure?" he enquired, humourously, beginning to dry her so she wouldn't get too cold.

"I just..." she closed her eyes, her pulse raging solidly, and she could have sworn her entire face was pulsing. "I don't really feel _with_ it."

Troy shook his head, as though it was suddenly obvious. "It's because you haven't eaten, and your body has basically just run a sprint, while also trying to withstand the greatest pleasure it's ever experienced." She knew he had morphed into joking around, but she barely had the energy to laugh. She simply grinned, and Troy simply laughed more. She looked high.

"Come on, Montez," he called affectionately, bending to pick her up. "You need to eat."

**༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺**

"Troy... We're," Gabriella mumbled mid-kiss, trying to push Troy away from her, his lips stuck to hers like glue, "going to be," he didn't ease up, "late!"

"No, we're not," he mumbled back, holding her face in place with gentle hands. He didn't want to leave their little bubble they'd created over lunch, and the more he thought about leaving the security of his truck cab to face his friends and teachers and his dad, the more he was contemplating kid-napping Gabriella and going on the lamb.

"Troy!" she admonished, pushing him and quickly hurrying to open her door. He lulled back a moment or two, resting his hands on his steering wheel to will his racing, horny notions away.

_You have Ms. Darbus' English class. You have Ms. Darbus' English class, _he murmured to himself, the only mantra that was actually going to help him get back to reality.

"Troy!" Gabriella called from the other side of his driver door, and this time, he did move. He grabbed his books that he's flung on the dashboard, and slid out of the cab unwillingly with a sigh. He strode to keep up with Gabriella's hurried scampering, and soon they were approaching Ms. Darbus' classroom, with seemingly seconds to spear.

"I'll go first," Gabriella muttered urgently, attempting to drop his hand. He instantly tightened his grip on it, holding her in her place.

"Troy, we have english!" She looked down at their hands as some students passed them in the hall. "Look, I just...would prefer it if we went in separately, because otherwise people will start talking, especially since you had that argument with your dad and we haven't been at school all of lunch time and I––"

Troy halted her with a gentle nudge to her shoulder, stepping away from her. "I get it." He halted against the wall. "Go on. I'll see you in there."

She mouthed 'thank you' as she opened the door and slipped inside, and he smiled, waiting until the bell went thirty seconds later to hurry in himself, as though late on his own accord. This, at least, was in keeping with how Troy usually turned up to things. No suspicion there.

"Ah, Mr Bolton," Ms. Darbus called from the board, where she was poised to begin her lesson. "Nice of you to join us..._after _the bell. That is, of course, what is was designed for."

He chose to ignore the seemingly knowing look in his teacher's eye. She had obviously noted how Gabriella was very nearly late, and she was never late. He swallowed, inwardly cringing. "Sorry, Ms. Darbus," he murmured dutifully, hurrying to his seat she had allocated him at the front of the room. He realised that from here, with Gabriella being at her usual seat at the back, he couldn't watch her, which was all he had been planning on doing all class. _Damn, he now and forever officially hated this seat. _

_ "Dude," _came the harsh whisper of Chad Danforth from beside him, and it was only now that he realised he'd been staring into space. "Where the hell did you go? We looked for you all morning."

"I..." He went to tell the truth, but halted himself, knowing Gabriella may not like that. "I had some shit to do, that's all."

"Some shit to do?" Chad whispered, disbelievingly, frowning at his blue-eyed friend who wasn't even looking at him. He turned back to him, looking far too neutral.

"Yeah."

Chad's eyes narrowed. Just at this moment, Ms. Darbus asked Gabriella a question, and her reply was something about the Romeo's symbolism in whatever scene they were meant to have read, and Troy cringed. It was only a tiny flinch of a movement, his eyes closing hurriedly, and as he predicted, as the sound of Gabriella's voice, Chad's logic kicked in, and his gaze instantly snapped to his Captain. Troy instantly stared down at his copy of Romeo and Juliet, pretending not to notice his best friend mouthing, "You fucking _dog," _at him and sniggering. As flashbacks of his lunchtime sprinted round and round his brain more and more with every passing moment, he sighed.

_Yup_. _He should definitely have kid-napped Gabriella and gone on the lamb._


	26. Keeping Appearances

A/N:_ MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE :)_

_I may be able to update again before the 25th as I'm trying to put off doing revision and I'm at home obviusly for Christmas holidays... We'll see._

_This is just a little chapter but I think it sets up quite a lot of stuff to happen soon :)_

_If you don't hear from me again––Have the best Xmas yet! ILY! xxxxx_

_Please review!_

_LOVE & HUGS,_

_x x x STARSWalkBackward x x x_

* * *

><p><span><strong>Keeping Appearances<strong>

"_Gabriella,_" came the hissed insistently voice of Taylor McKessie as Ms. Darbus wrapped up her English class. "Where were you?"

Gabriella swallowed, preparing for the onslaught. "Went out for lunch." She shuffled, beginning to cram her books into her bag, hugging her bursting folder to her chest.

"With lover boy?"

Gabriella's eyes trained on the ground so she wouldn't fall, her gaze darting between that and Troy's hesitantly retreating figure. She could see him loitering opposite the classroom door against the wall, turning his head in many directions to give the impression of nonchalance, when in reality, she knew, and hoped, he was waiting for her.

"His name's Troy, Tay," Gabriella scolded, lightly, making her way through the hoards of students toward him, which earned her a shy smile on his part.

"Hi," he greeted, wanting to say so much more but knew that in front of Taylor was not the place.

"Why is your hair damp?" Taylor inquired forcefully as the three made their way down the hall.

"Tay––" Gabriella sighed almost dejectedly, trying to halt her.

"And you!" Taylor gasped, suddenly noticing the slightly stringy look of post-soaked bangs on his head as well as Gabriella's. "Both of you. Why?"

"Taylor––"

"Don't you dare tell me nothing because the Gabriella I know would not skip an entire lunch, when we agreed to have _important _decathlon study time, and then return looked as though she's been fucked in a bush––"

"Taylor!" Gabriella admonished, embarrassed and suddenly fueled with irritation at her friend's tone.

"Yo––"

"_Taylor_," came Troy's firm interruption, feeling the need to step in and protect and assist Gabriella, noting her distress at Taylor's lack of delicacy on the subject. "Gabriella and I went home for lunch and got caught by the sprinklers. We're sorry we forgot to find you to tell you she wouldn't be here, but––"

"––It's been a rough day," Gabriella finished for him. Wanting to show her need for his comfort and her desire to give her own, she shyly slipped her hand into his where it hung by his side. Troy's gaze subtly dropped to meet her eyes as he slowly curled his fingers around hers.

Taylor, unknown to the two, noticed this exchange, and felt her hard, protective exterior weaken a little. With a small smile, she apologised to the two as the reached Gabriella's locker. Reluctantly, Troy leant into Gabriella's body slightly, inhaling deeply into her hair before letting her go with a quiet goodbye, though, to the passerby, it would appear that he simply...lost his balance, perhaps? and leant too close to her. However, anyone who really knew Troy, knew he had a soft spot for the 'weird' brunette who's good in class, and that the 'T' at her neck stood for his name, and most obviously, that he _never_ lost his balance.

Gabriella, with a mouth full of saliva, watched him go, much to Taylor's amusement.

"So, what did you _really_ do?"

Gabriella rolled her eyes, snapping out of her reverie instantly, turning with nonchalance to her locker. "See you later. Taylor."

"Gabi––_Seriously. _What's with the secrecy? What _happened _last weekend?"

Gabriella kept her eyes pinned to the contents of her locker, trying to keep her voice level. "I told you. We went indoor skydiving––which was fucking awesome. He gave me the necklace, we went back to his house...and made Oreo truffles and spicy popcorn."

"There's no way that's all that happened." Taylor challenged as they made their way to the girls locker room. "I've seen the way you've been looking at each other. There's no, way!"

"Alright, alright!" Gabriella snapped impatiently, pulling her into a secluded corner of the locker room. She sighed, not quite sure as to _why _exactly she was so reluctant to tell her friend everything... Perhaps it was simply because she had never had such intimate secrets before, and maybe she wanted them to stay that way for a while. There was no harm in that was there? "Troy and I... We were in his living room and we...made out...and stuff."

Gabriella watched as her friend's eyebrows rose high into her forehead as she let out an excited gasp and squeak. "And _stuff?" _

Gabriella sighed, rolling her eyes and bashfully turning away to begin to change into sports gear. "Don't make me say it, Tay." There was noise from other girls across the room, who were giggling as they change for the same gym class. Gabriella, paranoid, lowered her voice instantly, in fear they would hear. "You know exactly what I'm getting at."

Taylor was grinning from ear to ear as she pulled out her clothes, smug at her friend's success in attracting the most sort-after guy in Albuquerque. "_Oh_, I think I can guess."

"Well then." With this, Gabriella relatively closed the conversation, pulling her gym white polo shirt over her head and her red short-shorts, having to sit down on the bench in order to pull on her white socks, having tried while standing and, as expected, almost falling on her face. "Hate my fucking balance," she muttered, to which Taylor laughed lightly.

"What balance? You have none," she joked without malice, also pulling on her socks.

"I know, right?" she agreed, laughing at her own misfortune, yanking her curls into a high pony tail, pulling all back from her face. She felt the familiar flutter of anxiety beginning to curl in the pit of her stomach as she attempted to swallow, making her way out of the gym through the throngs of loud girls taking forever to change.

"Gym. I hate gym. I hate gym. I hate gym," Gabriella repeated bitterly as she took step after step into the gymnasium, feeling like livestock being lead to slaughter. If there was one thing in life she could not stand, it was physical education. She and Taylor stood around for a while, waiting for most of the other girls to enter the gym, late as usual, and Gabriella had already completely tuned out, which is why she didn't notice any of the three things that happened next. One, Cassidy, one of the many cheerleaders at East High with barely any body weight and even less brains, began walking towards her with a group of friends, including Jessica. Two, Coach Bolton had walked in _instead _of their usual female gym teacher, and three, male students followed him in.

"So, Gabriella. What's this I hear about you and Troy?"

It took Gabriella a moment or two to comprehend that Cassidy was speaking to her, with a disgusting, sickeningly sweet smile, the kind was that was so obviously forced. She gulped, feeling nervous under the penetrating gaze, as though suddenly all her flaws were being magnified and highlighted.

"I don't know," she answered lamely, scratching a non-existent itch on her forearm as a distraction.

Gabriella could almost _see _the girls plan being mapped out in her eyes as she looked Gabriella over. Gabriella curled an arm around her middle and tried to stand as straight as possible, tilting her hips back to pull in her stomach and buttocks that usual stuck out due to her bad posture.

Cassidy shrugged, curling a perfect blond lock around her finger, her eyes meticulously lined and her lashes curled to perfection. Suddenly, she leant toward Gabriella, with a nosy look in her eye. "Is that a T?"

Gabriella instantly looked down to see what she was talking about, and realised all to late that her necklace from Troy was laying at her sternum, the 'T' pendant sparkling brightly under the horribly harsh fluorescents.

_Shit. _

"Um... Yeah." Gabriella felt herself flailing, her cool, nonchalant exterior giving way to how she was really feeling––panicked, clammy and under attack.

"'T' as in _Troy?" _Cassidy could barely contain her sniggers. "Aw, look girls, she bought herself a charm to confess to the world her crush on Troy." She looked over her shoulder at her friends as they crowded Gabriella, keeping her under the microscope. "Isn't that just the cutest?"

"_I_ didn't buy it," Gabriella defended meekly, not sure where to look as she couldn't quite bare obtaining eye contact, as the wicked gleam in the blond cheerleader's eye was almost frightening.

"Oh, _really?" _Cassidy changed, humourously. "Then who did?" Before Taylor, who had been thoroughly restraining herself as to not hit the girl and get suspended, could have a chance to defend her friend, Cassidy spoke again. "Oh, was it Troy? Is this in the same fictional world where you 'made out in his living room...and _stuff_?'" At first, Gabriella frowned, knowing that this girl had been eaves-dropping on her in the locker room. However, evidently, due to her sarcastic, mocking tone, Cassidy believed Gabriella was lying, and this resulted in much amusement on Gabriella's part, rather than offense.

"Yeah," Gabriella replied, more brave this time. "Something like that."

"So, was he _good_?" Cassidy asked to massive falseness in her voice, the spark in her blue eyes suggesting she was mocking Gabriella, still believing she was lying and hoping to get as much humiliating information of her as possible, to relay to the basketball team later on, no doubt.

The joke was on her, though, because it was in fact the truth. Gabriella just smirked smugly, turning with Taylor away from the group, not wanting to defy the question, that was no doubt set to embarrass her, with an answer.

"Alright ladies––Gather round!" came Coach Bolton's loud voice. From one side of the gym the girls circled him, and, much to surprise, the senior boys also gathered from the other side. Evidently today their classes were merging.

Gabriella groaned lowly. _Oh, huzzah. _

"Ms. Gilbert is off sick today, so I will be teaching you both." Coach, with his dark hair tidy as ever, surveyed the girls. "I don't usually teach you ladies, so there are some things I need to cover. First is that I run a tight ship, so no unnecessary chatter––I don't want to overhear how so-and-so's party went last night." There were a few chuckles from the class. "That's not what we're here for. Second, is that I don't want any health risks of any kind, which means appropriate uniform and zero jewelry to be worn at all times."

Gabriella instantly felt her stomach drop, knowing full well her necklace was still on, and that she had no pockets. She stayed frozen while Coach continued to speak, afraid to make a move to take it off.

"So today, as it accommodates all and is mandatory at least once a semester, we'll being doing circuit training."

_Fuck, _was Gabriella's only thought as she joined the chorus of groans from most of the girls. Running drills and sit ups and planking and bench lifts and jumping jacks and hurdles and all sorts of other great fun awaited, all of which made Gabriella feel physically sick and exhausted just thinking about it.

"Alright, everyone. Pair up." Just as Gabriella gripped Taylor's arm, Coach's voice rang out again. "_Boy/girl pairs."_

More groans erupted, however, this time mostly from the guys, as most of the girls were thrilled at the idea, though some, like Gabriella, were suddenly terrified. If she couldn't be with Taylor, who understood her disability and what it prevented her from doing out of all the various apparatus, then how was she going to live through this? Oh, how purely humiliating. She was going to fall on her face, or fail to achieve even one plank or push-up, and worst of all, some random guy was going to be watching her walk and run the whole time in the weird way she did. _No, oh no, oh no, oh _no.

"No," she whimpered at Taylor, who turned down her mouth apologetically. She made her way towards Chad Danforth, who, due to the size of his hair, was impossible not to spot, leaving Gabriella alone, wanting to die in a hole. She watched as people easily found friends of the opposite sex to pair with, and she felt that all too familiar dread of being the odd one out in gym class, who has to partner with the teacher...

"Are you partnered with anyone?" came a voice from behind her, to which Gabriella span round, relief reeling through her veins. Troy Bolton stood before her in an East High vest and shorts to the knee, and, not being able to restrain herself, she leapt forward and hugged him quickly.

"No. Thank you, thank you, _thank you_," she gushed, feeling suddenly distracted by how his firm waist had felt under her hands as she had embraced him.

"No, thank _you," _he insisted, leaning into her and speaking lowly. "I had to fight these girls back and for one moment I thought I was going to be stuck with that god-awful _Cassidy." _He visibly shuddered as he spoke her name, causing Gabriella to giggle girlishly, secretly delighted.

"God forbid," she agreed, swallowing, feeling eyes on her, but knowing who they belonged to. A moment later, as Coach Bolton began allocating starting positions around the different stations of the circuits, Gabriella heard the same shrill voice that had been mocking her only minutes before.

"Er, Coach, I don't want to, like, speak out or anything but I could have sworn you said no jewelry just now and Gabriella over there still has her necklace on."

Gabriella instantly stiffened, turning red as the whole classes' eyes became pinned to her. She quickly scrambled to undo it, inwardly panicking as to where to put it. However, before she could voice this, she felt two larger hands moving hers away, gently untangling her hair from the chain and taking it from her, slipping it into his pocket. Troy muttered _'What a bitch'_ in regards to Cassidy, winking at Gabriella as she giggled. She mouthed 'thank you' and gave him a gentle smile, moving towards the station Coach icily allocated them, causing Gabriella great relief, as it was one she could do. Bench lifts.

"I hate circuit training..." she groaned lowly as she moved over the wooden bench, watching Troy move gracefully next to her. As Coach blew the whistle to signal the class to start. Gabriella lowered herself to the bench, placing her palms on the edge with her feet flat on the floor, lifting herself from a squat, feeling the strain of only one lift already in her biceps and triceps. Troy, on the other hand, was clearing finding lifting his own body weight against a bench the easiest thing in the world, and Gabriella swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sight of his bulging, bronzed arms.

After a few moments of quiet between the two as the noise that echoed through the gym went on around them, Troy looked over to Gabriella and grinned. "Hey," he called, with a tone of surprise. "You're good at this."

"Oh, watch this space. This is that _only _station on circuit training I'm good at, and that's only because it doesn't require balance."

And, if Troy was being honest, she was right. As they moved from the benches to the mats to do push-ups and sit ups, Gabriella could barely even manage one. He held down her legs with his body weight as he encouraged her to try and sit up, only for her to fall back onto the mat in humiliated laughs and pants. Troy then showed off his own ease at this, and Gabriella couldn't prevent her laughter when she realised she could literally _see _his abs shift under his vest material with every sit up. However, Gabriella was no more humiliated than when they got the wobble board station, which consisted of a board with half spheres on the bottom in order to make it hard to stand on and balance. This meant, of course, that Gabriella, who struggled to balance on two feet on a _flat_ surface, ultimately failed at this station more than any other.

"I can't do it, Troy!" she said loudly over the noise of the echoing gymnasium.

"Sure you can!"

"No," she took a step onto the board and _instantly _fell off, resulting in Troy grasping her arm again. "I can't."

He chuckled, smoothing a hand over her arm that was covered with the thinnest sheen of perspiration as his was. He watched her as they moved on then to the punch bag station, watching her rounded behind moving in those short-shorts, trying to keep a mega-watt smile from spreading across his face. As Gabriella lay on the mat, she got into position with the punching bag in between her legs. He knelt by the punching bag, grinning as he looked down at her from her side.

"My, Miss Montez," he drawled, looking down at her laid figure with a cheeky grin. "We must stop meeting like this."

"Be quiet you and hold my legs down."

Troy erupted into chuckles. predictably. "Miss Montez, such activities in a public place––"

"––Shut up, Bolton."

Sniggering at his own joke, Troy pressed his hands against her bare shins and pressed down. "Alright, Gab. You gonna' try one?"

She pulling herself and punched the punching bag with her boxing gloves, however she could already feel the muscles in her back and shoulders pulling her up instead of those in her abdominals as it was _meant _to be. After hitting the punching bag, she flopped back onto her back on the mat.

"Okay. I did it. Can we stop now?"

"Nooo," he protested. "You can do this, babe, come on."

Feeling irritation ebb within her at his tone and the pet name she hated, she rolled her eyes aggressively. "_Don't _call me that."

Troy's grin widened. "That's right, babe. Feel the anger."

Gabriella externally cringed as she punched the bag and flopped down again. "_Stop."_

After some teasing and more struggled sit ups, it was Troy's turn, and, of course, he had no trouble.

"You want me to hold down _your_ legs?" she joked, knowing he wouldn't need such a thing at all. He stood his head subtly and carried on as Gabriella sat and watched.

"I like you in those shorts, by the way," he husked with his next sit up.

A blush crept up Gabriella flushed skin as she looked down at her bare legs, suddenly thanking the powers that be that she had thought to shave her legs the night before.

"Pervert," she mumbled, good-naturedly, smiling bashfully at his compliment.

He pulled himself up again and sat, his legs straddling the punching bag. Leaning slightly into her, his crooked grin widened. "I'm sorry, but I just can't help myself." Knowing that the loud chaos of all the moving pairs surrounding them meant they were hidden in plain sight, Troy slid a hot hand down her back, so it came to rest just above the curve of her behind. "You really do have a _fantastic_ ass."

Gabriella, still blushing, felt herself turning to liquid at his husked tone. She wished she could come up with a witty response, but nothing would come. "Thank you?"

"_Bolton_! _Montez_!" came the sharp voice of his father, breaking the two apart with a jump. "I said no necessary chatter, did I not? Next station, now! Both of you! I'm watching you."

Gabriella bowed her head, embarrassed, as some of their classmates had turned to watch, and moved to the next station, much faster than Troy.

"Way to go, Bolton!" she hissed, sitting at the next apparatus. Troy followed, also slightly embarrassed, but mostly angry at his father still from his attitude this morning and his tone towards Gabriella. He had a feeling they would have having rather heated words before this was resolved.

**༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺**

"Coach Bolton was real pissed today, huh?" Taylor murmured as she and Gabriella left for the girls locker room after gym, walking as fast as possible to try and avoid Cassidy and her friends.

"Yeah," Gabriella agreed, not sure how much of what she'd learnt today she should give away.

"Apparently he and Troy has a bust in practice this morning."

"Yeah... That's why we went out. He was...pretty upset about the whole thing."

Pulling out her clothes at record pace, Gabriella threw them on, planning on having a shower at home rather than here, wanting to get away from the danger that was Cassidy as quickly as possible.

"It must be tough, having the Coach as your dad, I guess," Taylor murmured, feeling sympathetic for the MVP for the first time.

Gabriella just nodded, knowing that all the pressure from people such as Cassidy, the team and his dad may just get to Troy before long, and that it wouldn't be pretty.

Pulling on her dress, Gabriella didn't bother fixing her ponytail that had half fallen out. She was exhausted.

"Where is he planning on going to college?"

Gabriella swallowed, the idea of college the most frightening thing to her at the moment. "I don't know. All I know is he doesn't want to go to U of A like his dad thinks."

Taylor slowed her changing, surprised at this new information. "And Chad thinks." She frowned. "Yikes. He won't like that."

Gabriella felt a hot flush of panic roll through her. "Don't tell him! Please don't. Troy told me that in confidence and he's so confused about it all right now, with the championship coming up and––"

"––Gabi, _chill_. I won't say anything."

The two were ready as all the other girls were only just beginning to amble in, much to Gabriella's relief. She rushed past Cassidy who called goodbye to her in a mocking manner, followed by kissing noises. She ignored them, as did Taylor. As they exited the locker room into the corridor, Troy was leant against the wall, his hair damp from being washed. Taylor said a quiet goodbye, hugging Gabriella and walking down the hall, though Gabriella knew that she was most likely going to secretly make sure she bumped into Chad.

"I thought you might want this back," Troy said, holding her necklace from him out with one hand. Her hand instantly went to her neck as for a millisecond she had forgotten he had it. She smile gratefully, happy to be able to put it back on where it belonged.

"Will you put it on for me?" she asked shyly, to which he agreed equally gently. She neared him then turned her back to him as he delicately placed it around her neck and pushed her ponytail out the way to fasten it. As he did so, however, he then leant down and left a kiss on the back of her neck, causing the all too familiar butterflies in her stomach to rouse into a whirlwind all over again. His lips were hot and soft and moist, and Gabriella was instantly transported back to lunch, when they had been _everywhere..._

"I should go," she husked instantly, not wanting to miss the bus home.

Troy just nodded, and as Gabriella turned to him, she noted the distant look in his eye. He looked like he was a million miles away. She realised he was probably still reeling over the fight with his dad, and she felt awful for him. She knew what it was like to feel conflicted when your parents wanted something for your future that you didn't.

Taking a deep breath, ignoring the students that passed them, she kissed him gently on the mouth, feeling his fingers lift some of the loose tendrils of her hair and curl them behind her ears. He kissed her back with an equal of sense of need for comfort, as he was physically and mentally exhausted, especially knowing of the fight that was still to come, no doubt, between he and his father.

"I'll text you," she reassured him, as he usually did her, and she noted suddenly how roles seemed to have shifted. He nodded quickly, pulling her into a tight hug, burrowing his face into her neck. He heard girls exiting the locker room, and knew from the shudder that ran down his spine that one of them was Cassidy, as he would recognise such an irritating voice anywhere. He instantly withdrew slightly, murmuring that he'd walk Gabriella to the bus. As they moved away, Troy could hear the girls giggling and sniggering over the fact he held her hand, but mostly, over the way Gabriella walked. His jaw locked as he resisted the urge to turn on his heel and give them a piece of his mind. Gabriella must have felt him tense as they walked, as she squeezed his hand, her thumb rubbing over his knuckles.

"They're not worth it," she whispered, afraid he'd make a scene. He looked over at her and tried to deliver his usual smile, but it cracked at the edges, his inner anger and melancholy showing through. She was so smart, and he knew she was right. The last thing he wanted was to make things worse for her.

As they made their way outside, more people looked at them, watching the way Gabriella walked as though she were some kind of freak show that had just arrived. He had never noticed them looking at her like this before, even before he knew her. Was it his presence? Was he the reason the stares had started up again? Gabriela had been at East High since Junior year, and though they had treated her this way at first, after her first few weeks, she'd said people got used to the weird girl who walked like a 'spaz' and forgotten her.

"I wish they wouldn't look at you like that," he whispered at they got to the school bus and he had to let her go. He pulled her into another hug under the protection of a crowd of students ambling in the sun, delaying having to get on the bus.

"Troy, I've lived with it my whole life," she whispered with a gentle smile, touched by his dislike of the stares, but also finding it amusing. "It's just a fact of life for me."

Troy's eyes clamped shut as he fought so many mixed emotions, rubbing his thumb over his brow. "It shouldn't be."

Gabriella simply sighed, leaning up to kiss his cheek comfortingly. She went to walk to the bus, but he pulled her back for another, pressing slow, gentle kisses to her cheek and then her head.

"Thanks for today," he whispered, reluctantly letting her go.

Gabriella nodded, stepping onto the bus. "No, thank _you_."

"I'll call you!" he called, watching her struggle with her bag down the aisle of the bus before finding a seat. She smiled at him one last time before the bus set off, leaving him there on the curb with his thoughts, surrounded by ambling East High students. Suddenly, even being, what Gabriella called, the most popular guy in school, Troy felt alone. Some of the team passed him and patted his back and called goodbye to him, but without Gabriella around, keeping up appearances––his smile, his charisma, his alter-ego as MVP––didn't seem worth it at all.


	27. Confrontations Revelations

_**A/N: ?..hi. Please don't hate me. I've now finished my A Levels, and school, forever, and so have been trying to enjoy a summer that is eerily empty of much to do...apart from going out and getting drunk and writing poetry. I've had some serious writers block, but I did promise this story would be completed by the time I go to uni in September, and that's still true. Plus, you may be interested to know, I now (finally) have some experience with guys myself that will hopefully aid my writer of Troy/Gabriella together. **_

_**Thanks to all the Anons on Tumblr for nagging me. This is for you. **_

* * *

><p><strong>Confrontations. Revelations. <strong>

From the minute he had stepped in his front door, he could feel it; the sense of tension, stretching all patience to its limit; the silence causing inner monologues to become so loud that soon they were going to burst out into verbal altercations. Troy had tried his best to avoid this; driving home alone from school in his truck for every day for the rest of the week; walking straight to his room once he arrived and closing the door, hoping that that same old cliché would ring true: Out of sight, out of mind.

It didn't, however, as Troy soon realised with every stomp of his fathers feet around the house the minute he got home from school. His mother had quietly entered and enquired as to her husband's foul mood on Monday night, to which Troy chose to give her the nonchalant, brief a-bridged version of the days events. To his surprise, his mother appeared to take his side. She didn't say as much, but he saw a look of empathy in her eyes that he was sure he had never seen before. It was now Friday night, and Gabriella and he both had a mountain of work from the week, so agreed not to see each other until they got some done. His mother had brought him dinner in his room––as he had told her of the great mound of homework he needed to power through––however, something shifted. He could hear his father's anger, which had barely receded once throughout the week when Troy had refused to speak to him after their altercation on Monday, becoming directed towards his mother in the kitchen. His words were sharp and clipped and argumentative as he demanded to know why she had let their son be so antisocial and eating in his room again, declaring she was too soft on him. Troy swallowed hard as he felt anger and adrenaline rising and bubbling to the surface. There was no way that man in there could talk to Troy's mother that way, even if that man was his father.

_Are you sure you're okay? _

came a text message from Gabriella, and Troy could almost see clear as day her concerned expression gazing up at him.

_**Dad's really pissed off still. Have a feeling this could get ugly. Wish me luck **_

She did, too, but not before also stating how much she wished she could be there with him. This warmed his heart much more than he was sure he'd like to admit, but caused him to close his eyes and lean back on his bed, clutching his phone to his chest where he had rested it, letting himself both wish that were true for a moment, while also revelling in the idea that she wanted it too. She wanted to be near him, as he did her.

"Troy!" came the sharp voice of Coach Bolton from the floor below. Troy gulped, rubbing his neck, agitatedly.

"Doing homework!"

"Jack––leave it," came the more gentle protest from his mother heard as Coach made his way up the stairs. His impending footsteps causing Troy's heart to beat erratically.

"Troy," Jack murmured curtly, as he held open the door to his son's bedroom. "Would you mind joining us at the table for dinner?"

"But Mom said I could do my homework and eat here––" Troy began protesting, but at the look in his father's eyes, he suddenly felt it wasn't worth it. With a sigh, he simply picked up his plate and walked by his father down the stairs, not missing his mother's exasperated look when he passed her. He sat at the table and began eating again instantly, not waiting for his father to sit down. He ate quickly and silently, with a stoney expression, which, despite the lack of snide comments he could have delivered, seemed to anger Coach Bolton more. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and considering he had already finished his food and his mother was making small talk with his father––no doubt trying to put off the seemingly enviable argument––he pulled it out to view a text message, from Gabriella no less.

"I'm sorry, are we interrupting something?"

Troy instantly looked up from his screen, mid-sentence, looking slightly guilty, knowing he'd broken a regular rule of no cell-phones at the table.

"I––er––No. Sorry, Dad."

Lucille, putting her cutlery together, smiled reassuringly at her son. "Troy, honey. Could you get desert from the kitchen, please?"

"Sure," he agreed, softly, getting up to do so as he tucked his phone back in his pocket.

"So, I'm guessing that was that girlfriend of yours again, huh?" Troy heard his father enquire from the table, obviously trying to sound nonchalant. Troy tightened his grip on the dishes for the desert, taking a moment to breath through the impulse to become defensive. "You two certainly looked...close in gym class the other day."

Troy grimaced while still out of sight of his father, taking a moment to prepare his best poker face. "Not really, Dad. We were doing circuit training, after all."

"Close?" his mother questioned, curiously.

"We weren't, Mom. I told you," he denied, quickly. "I was Gabriella's partner, and I was just helping her, because, obviously, she struggles a little with circuit training..."

"Well, that was very good of you, honey. I'm glad."

There was a pessimistic huff from his father as Troy placed the plates down, and he inhaled deeply, grinding his teeth.

"Just helping her, huh? Very good of you."

"Since when do you always ask such bafflingly accusing, passive-aggressive questions?"

"Boys," Lucille scolded in warning, sensing Troy's tone harden to flint.

"No, I mean it." Troy looked up at his mother with fire in his eyes, ready for this fight. "Do you know what he said to me that other day, Mom?"

Jack Bolton shifted, angered, to interrupt. "He?!––"

"He said Gabriella was 'handicapped' and distracting me from practice... Have you ever heard such crap?!"

"Jack––" Lucille gasped, at her husband, who was looking considerably flushed and uncomfortable. "You didn't?"

"He did, and then some," Troy confirmed, smug that his mother was angry with his father.

"Hey, now, less of that lip––" Jack Bolton's retort escaped automatically before he meant it to, and with that, he watched the fury in his son's eyes ignite.

"––Or what? You going to insult my girlfriend again?"

"Hey, now, Troy, quiet down––"

"No, Mom, I won't quiet down. I won't be pushed around by a man, who's meant to be a member of staff, who's meant to be my father, who treats me like this." He stood tall opposite his father across the table. "Gabriella is a part of my life. I like her a lot, and I won't apologise for her or anything else."

"I never said anything of the sort––" Jack began, only for Troy to cut him off.

"Oh, but you did, all because you think she's taking me away from your precious basketball. Well, you know what, Dad? I hope she does. I don't care, anymore. I don't fucking care. I give up."

Lucille didn't interrupt this time, but did gasp at her son's bad language as he went to storm out of the room.

"Troy! Get back here!" Jack ordered, following his son into the kitchen. "You have to think about this. You may like this girl, but, but, this is your career!"

"But it's not. It's not my career right now. Dad, it's yours. It's what you want. This is my life. Why can't I decide what do with it?"

"What on earth do you mean? Of course it's your career. This is the Red Hawks we're talking about. U of A! U of A, Troy! You should be focussing. The championship's only––"

"––I know, I know, the championship's close. I get it, and I'll be at every team practice, but Dad, I won't give up the other aspects of my life! Basketball is not––" He broke himself off, suddenly catching his breath at the admission he was about to make. "Basketball is not my life anymore, Dad... Neither are the Red Hawks."

"Troy––what are you saying––"

Troy felt his impatience bubble over. His father just wouldn't. Listen. "I'm saying––I don't care! I don't care if you don't think I'm practicing enough! I don't care about U of A! I don't want to be a Red Hawk! I don't want to live like this! I'm not even sure I want to do basketball as a career! If this is how my life is going to be because of it, then I don't want it!"

"Troy, come on, let's be rational about this."

Troy halted, turning on his heel to face his father, who looked panicked, obviously picturing the Wildcats playing the ever-nearing State Championship without him. He raised his eyebrows at his father. "Rational? You think I'm not being rational?" He shook his head, feeling himself losing fight. "Oh wow. You're fucked up, Dad."

Jack seemed to physically recoil, anger and hurt mixed in his expression. "Excuse me? You cannot talk to me like you––You're grounded!"

Troy barked out a bitter, humourless laugh, halting at the kitchen door. "What for? Telling the truth?"

"The truth?"

Troy tightened his fists at his sides.

"What's happened to you?" Jack asked in a forlorn voice, as though he son in front of him was beyond recognition.

"What's happened to you, Dad?" he countered, before turning on his heel and angrily stalking out of the front door, grabbing a hoodie and his keys.

"Where are you going?!" Jack yelled after him, stalking down the path.

"Away from you!" Troy yelled. He knew it was childish, but it was the truth, and he was too angry to even try anymore.

"Troy, come back, please!" came the plea of his mother from behind his father, her tone and distress almost turning him around, guilt bubbling in his stomach. His hands shook with adrenaline, and he knew he had to get away.

"I'll be back, Mom!" he yelled, hearing and ignoring as they reached his truck and tried to tap on the window helplessly. He drove off, not hearing anything other than the thumping of his heartbeat in his ears. His knuckles were white as he held the wheel, as he stared ahead at the road helplessly, checking his mirrors only to make sure he wasn't being followed. When he didn't see anyone, he drove off into the darkening evening, not knowing where he was headed.

༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺

"Stop it," Gabriella whispered to herself, scolding herself for staring at her phone. Troy hadn't replied to her text message, and while she knew this was reasonable, she couldn't help but worried and wonder, considering the last thing they'd communicated about was that his father was still being hostile. She stared at the screen blankly as she leant her chin the rim of the bath, holding her phone away from the water. She began to dose, as she often did in a hot bath. Her mind drifted to Troy soon enough, with his cerulean eyes; the dimples and laugh lines that appeared when he grinned; the golden tone of his skin under the sun and in the dark and dim of his living room; the way he kissed her; the way he walked around her room in his boxers... Her hand wondered slowly over her skin under the water, seeing Troy behind her closed eyes, envisioning his touch rather than her own, feeling her body beginning to react...only to be jolted by the sound of her phone that she had dropped to the bathroom floor. She quickly leant over and answered it, confused to see Emily's name on the screen.

"Hello," she answered brightly with a slightly bemused tone, clearing her throat, flushed from her previous activities.

"Gabi. What are you doing right now?"

Gabriella gulped, laughing nervously. "I'm in the bath. Why? What are you––"

"You need to come meet me now."

Gabriella sat up instantly, alert. "What?"

"I'm on my way to your house. You need to come with me!"

"What are you talking about? Go with you where? My mom is hardly going to just let me––"

"Gabriella––please. She won't notice you're gone. Just, please––It's Troy."

Gabriella placed her phone down on her towel to use both hands to climb from the bath, not wanting to fall, and picked it up again. "Emily––what––what––"

"Meet me outside yours in five, and I'll explain everything."

༻~ⓣⓦⓝⓒ~༺

"He drove off, after they fought again."

"Shit," Gabriella cursed, staring out the window at nothing in particular, something she had a habit of doing whenever she was nervous. "It's been bothering him all week. I should have thought––done something––"

"––I only know because Lucille rang me to ask if he was with me. He wasn't... but I think I know where he is."

"Emily..." She swallowed, feeling nerves bubble in the pit of her stomach. "But, surely, if he went off by himself, then he doesn't want us there?"

"Trust me. he'll want you there. Troy only runs away from something if he's desperate. He thinks he can work everything out for himself, but, you know, he can't."

Gabriella suddenly recognised the direction they were driving in, noting they were about to pull up to the back of East High's gym. "Wait––you just said you?! Does that mean you're not coming too?"

"Me? No! He can't stand me most of the time. However, he can't deny I'm useful and I always save his ass." She parked, rather unevenly, and didn't cut the engine. "Go on." Gabriela must have looked as uncertain as you felt, as Emily smiled gently. "You know, you help him more than you know, and... I think he helps you too. He's made you brave. You're certainly not the shy girl who shitty sandwiches that I met in Lava Springs' kitchen."

Gabriella swallowed the sentiment that swelled in her throat at this, smiling weakly in acceptance of the task ahead. "Where will I find him?"

"The gym, or the weight room. He's a jock. Duh?"

Gabriella climbed out of the car inelegantly, taking a deep breath of the cooler air as she bravely walked towards the back entrance to the gym, pushing a loose tendril of hair into her damp bun as another fell out. Thinking of all the wonderful moments she and Troy had had in the short time they had known each other, walked faster, wanting to be there for him. "That's not all he is," she whispered to no one with a soft smile.

She opened the door hesitantly, slowly watching her feet in the dim, following the signs of lights. She tiptoed through the mens locker room, noting how there wasn't an odour as she expected. All benches were empty, expect by the third group of lockers, only a stones throw away from the Coach's office, where a hoodie, a set of keys, a phone and a '14' basketball vest lay. Gabriella slowly picked up the uniform, tracing the white lettering of Troy's last name gently with her thumb, the word 'Bolton' bold and sure and definite, much like he was in day-to-day life... Well, usually.

With the tank top firmly in her grasp, she shuffled towards what she assumed was a training room, where light leaked from a door left open a jar. The sound of grunts and aggressive laboured breathing could be heard, so she sped up, slipping he head round the door. There, in the large training room under only two lights, was Troy, swinging his gloves fists at a punching bag...shirtless. From where she stood, all she could see was the shapes and contours of the muscles in his back, flexing with every hit, his grunts growing more and more angry, shouts escaping from deep within his throat. He appeared to be taking it too far, as sweat had formed a thick layer on his skin, his back looking like shiny wax under the light. His angry shouts became exclamations, as though whatever it was he was trying to exert away, he couldn't manage it. His breathing became ragged as though at the brink of tears, and Gabriella knew she should intervene. She moved quickly toward him, breaking into a run across the large room.

"Fuck! Fuck––fuck!" he yelled at almost record volume, as Gabriella chased toward him.

"Hey, Troy––hey! Hey!" She grasped his sweaty shoulders with tight, gentle hands. He didn't halt right away, but she felt the tension vibrating through his muscles under his hands. It ebbed under her touch as he turned at the sound of her voice, trying weakly to push her off.

"No. Gabriella. Not now. Let go."

At first, she felt a the blow and sting of rejection, however, stubborn as ever, she held her ground.

"Gabriella––No––" he began, but she wound her arms tight around him before he could finish, planting determined kisses to his sticky shoulder. He seemed to give into the sadness after that, as the anger faded into a much darker phase. He slid to the floor, letting her cradle his head against her chest as he attempted to catch his breath through occasional sobs.

"Why do they do this to me?" Troy husked in a broken croak of a tearful whisper, and Gabriella felt her heart stutter and splinter. "I just want to love what I really love." He trembled in her arms as she swallowed tears that began rising in her throat. "Why do they make it so hard?" He lifted his head, spread a hand over the back of hers, splaying a finger or two into her damp curls that had escaped easily from her bun. He cradled her face in his hands as kept a hand on the back of his head, looking down into his red, swollen teary eyes. "I just... I just..." He ground his teeth, and she quickly grasped him into a hug against to prevent further anger.

"You just, what?"

He sighed heavily as though the world was weighing on his shoulders. He leant away from her to pull his towel across the floor, wiping his face and sniffing, and though he was still sweaty, she would guess he was also wiping away fallen tears. There was no reply. Instead, he sat opposite her on the mat and tried to smile, but it seemed to wobble. Then, suddenly, "What's your dream?"

Gabriella opened her mouth without a response, then thought hard on her answer. "To go to Stanford. To study law."

Troy seemed to shake is head at this as though he didn't believe her, and she had to admit, it did sound false, even to her own ears. "No––not your aims––what's your dream? You know––what do you love?"

As she was not able to sit crossed legged, she crawled so she was so close to him that their faces were aligned, and she shyly sat between his legs against his chest after he pulled on his shirt.

She sighed, memories of all her lifelong daydreams of being graceful in movement flooded back to her; the days when she was five years old, when it was acceptable that she went to a ballet glass like all the other little girls; when she was given as much chance as others; when she didn't even know she was different. That was a treasured memory, as it was the only time she got to live that dream, and properly, because a five year old girl doesn't know what self consciousness or a disability is. As a result, her five year old self really felt she could be the one thing she wanted to be: a graceful dancer, a performer...but then reality set in as constructed by society's rules, and all that was lost. Intellect became the only aspect of herself she felt capable of pursuing.

"My dream actually has always been..." she swallowed, "dancing...and singing and music...Just...art, you know?... Until I got older and realised that could never happen for me."

Troy bulked at this, pleased she had told him such a thing, however, shocked by her pessimism and lack of self belief. "What? Why the hell can't it happen for you?"

Gabriella rolled her eyes as he looked around at her from behind. She shrugged, swallowing and looking away from him, not wanting to say it aloud. "Because," she said simply, as though it were obvious.

"Because?" he whispered.

She fiddled with the bottom of her shirt, that was in fact his band shirt, with his uniform still in her other hand. "Because..." The words were there, but they were so hard to say. Why were they always so hard to say? "Because, you know, I'm handicapped... No media would ever be interested in promotion of someone like me, much less the industry."

She didn't know that the 'H' word had been the exact one his father had used, but when she used it against herself, he suddenly felt as though it was his mission make her see how capable she really was. He dropped his head to her shoulder, leaving one kiss there as his large hands encircled her waist, his thumbs moved over her ribs. "Hey," her growled playfully, tightening his arms around her, hugging her close. "Listen to me." He held her chin so that his eyes met hers and she couldn't look away. "You can be whatever you want. You are the smartest person I have ever met, and you have a beautiful voice. The sky––in fact, fuck that––not even the sky is the limit for you."

"But Troy––" she sighed, feeling hopeless. "That's not true––"

Suddenly, his lips met hers urgently, and though he was still sticky with sweat, she kissed back for a minute, the slightest trace of stubble scratching against her upper lip, a sensation she wished to commit for memory for life. He reached up and traced her lower lip as he pulled away, giving her a small smile. "You get up every day, get out of bed, and you go about your life, such things not being at all as easy for you as the rest of us, literally. You deal with a massive majority of the world around you taking such aspects of life, like simply being about to get out of bed, and walk around, for granted; such ignorance must frustrate you so much for how much you wish you had this same 'normality.' And sometimes, their bullshit prejudice does the same. Yet, despite the shit you have to endure, due to nothing but the lottery of life, you get up and you take on the world with so much more thought than us 'normal people.' You put half of us to shame, Gabriella, just by getting up in a morning. You get such good grades, you self-taught yourself acoustic guitar––and really well, too." He swallowed, watching the way she looked as though she were being swallowed whole by the sheer amount of compliments. "And on top of all this, you are so beautiful, and sexy as fuck––" She giggled, bashfully, desperately trying to look away from his solid gaze, swallowing almost continuously. "You're just... You are the strongest person," he whispered, with utter belief. "You can do anything. Please, please don't listen to them."

"When did this end up about me?" she asked with a giggle, embarrassment causing a noticeable flush to her cheeks. "You have a habit of doing that." She leant away from him, cringing slightly at how moist she realised she was due to his perspiration.

"Aw, shit––I made you all sweaty––" He frowned guiltily, helping her stand up. She shook her head, indicating it wasn't important. After standing straight and wiping his eyes again, it was only then that Troy realised that she was wearing His band shirt, again.

"Nice shirt," he husked with a smirk, enjoying the sight of the hot flush that travelled up her neck.

"I... was rushed out the bath by Emily––I just grabbed anything. I didn't even have time to put on a bra––" She froze the moment she spoke, not consciously aware of her words until they were already spoken.

If he had thought she had blushed a moment ago, then this was something new. It was hot and a deep rouge in colour, and it rose right to the apple of her cheeks.

"Well," he remarked, sneaking an auspicious look down at her chest and the rounded shape of her breasts. "That has considerable cheered me up."

Gabriella moved her hands from covering her face with a giggle, leaning instead to press against his sweaty body, kissing his defined jawbone delicately. "You are this man," she whispered, pressing his Wildcat tank top to his chest between them. "But you are so much more, too, Troy." She placed a firm hand over his thudding heart, solid and strong and constant, and smiled. "Please believe me."

The confidence in his eyes that was ever present fell slightly, giving way to the vulnerability of his current trials and tribulations, and she slid her fingertips under his shirt to feather her fingertips along his abs comfortingly. Troy searched her face desperately for a word to say, but seemed to find no prompt. Instead he swooped down and kissed her, a hand gently in her damp hair. When they parted, Gabriella muttered that he kneecap was twitching due to all that time spent on the floor on her knees, and they laughed. He leant down to massage her knee cap, causing Gabriella to giggle more and swat at him. After a moment of quiet, Troy picked up his belongings and quickly headed to the showers, but not before sitting Gabriella down on a bench and making sure she was comfortable. Before he dashed, there was also a sentence that he left his lips; possibly the most earnest words he had ever spoken.

"Gabriella... Thank you."


End file.
